


(Incubus)

by annatheginger, sweetlikepi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Co-Alphas, Dubious Consent, Emotional Constipation, Folklore, Hale-McCall Pack, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Isaac Lahey/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, OG Hale Pack, OG pack, Oral Sex, Psychopath, Sex, Sex Demon, Sexy Times, Succubus, Teasing, Teasing Derek, Werewolves, allison is alive, incubus, sterek, supernatural Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2020-05-19 07:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19351993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annatheginger/pseuds/annatheginger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlikepi/pseuds/sweetlikepi
Summary: Mountains of research had piled up in his small studio apartment to the point that there was nowhere to walk without tripping over printouts of webpages or forums. This was the apartment he got after he killed the second person.-People are sick and people are dying. Stiles is missing. When the pack finds out what they're looking for and Derek figures out who they're looking for, they knew a fight was coming.-An idea I've been playing with a while, with a Tumblr post really playing on what the true definitions of what Succubus and Incubus mean I was spurred to finally write this out. I pulled from actual folklore, the folklore of the Polish Rusalka, and from the tv shows Lost Girl/The Gates.





	1. (Incubus)

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Dubious Consent, Homophobia/homophobic slurs, and violence.  
> I'll place an asterisk (*) when it actually begins for those that would prefer to skip it, once you reach the asterisk that's the end of the chapter.  
> This chapter has been updated 7/6/19 and beta'd by my lovely friends, Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag and Annatheginger, please give them some love and read their wonderfully entrapping works! <3

“There is a sickness in Beacon Hills, folks,” started the charismatic blond on the local news station, “Two people have been found dead in their homes over the span of two weeks in May, while two others have been fighting for their lives in the hospital. This mystery illness that seems to only be plaguing Beacon Hills is becoming a scientific phenomenon among the doctors and nurses in our Hospital. So, watch out for symptoms of fatigue, hyper-aggressiveness, hallucinations, and extreme happiness. These symptoms may seem odd and overlap with many other illnesses, but Doctors in Beacon Hills urge you to remain aware of these symptoms and try to take all the normal preventative measures.” He continued smiling, looking to his Co-Anchor who nodded in agreement. They moved on to lighter news avoiding any grimey details of the illness that was spreading.

 

“They’re already releasing information about the victims,” the Sheriff huffed in annoyance. Noah hadn’t expected the station to let that happen so soon, but the Public Health division could supersede their gag orders. “Tell me what you know about these people’s illness, I’ll pass it on to them.”

“It’s as if their bodies have given up and they’re wasting away. No amount of food through intubation or nutritional IV fluid seems to help their condition. We didn’t find any toxins in their system - if anything, they all have an overproduction of the dopamine hormone,” Melissa sighed. “The man that came in four weeks ago, the first ‘victim,’ slipped into a coma today.” She handed Noah copies of the medical records of the two victims that were still alive, sliding them across the table with a delicate hand. 

Noah took them from her hand and slipped them with his police files. He leaned back in the metal chair, looking around the nurse’s lounge with a suffering sigh. “Does Scott know anything?” he asked finally - his son hadn’t told him anything. But his son would need to be around for Noah to even ask him if he had any ideas. Stiles had been acting weirder than normal, and he hadn’t seen the regular suspects milling around their home because Stiles had moved out one night during one of Noah’s night shifts. Of course, Noah would still take it to Stiles (if he could be found), but he had to make sure Melissa took it to Scott first. 

“He hasn’t asked me anything. I’m guessing they aren’t connecting these sick people,” Melissa hummed and slowly stood up. “I got to get back to work. Keep this from Chris until the pack knows and makes a plan.” 

Noah nodded, knowing how Chris was sometimes despite the code of conduct he followed as a hunter. He stood as well, holding the files close to his body as he walked out of the lounge with her “If you learn anything new, please let me know as soon as you can, Melissa.” With a final nod, Noah walked away from her, heading home to try and see if he could get any information from his son (if he was there). 

The case was a strange one, to say the least - the first two men that were found dead were discovered two weeks apart, both naked in their beds. A detective had suggested there had been a struggle, but it looked more like a passionate, one-time love affair based on the fact that larger surfaces had been completely cleared off with broken elements on the floor, condoms thrown everywhere, and the blankets eschew on the bed. The place had been wiped clean of prints, which was the Sheriff’s main clue that the death had probably been intentional. This was strengthened by the later additions of a sick man and woman suffering from the same symptoms, both with a high level of dopamine in their systems never returning to normal levels. The dead men didn’t have the medical documentation of their hormone changes but seemed to overdose on a hormone imbalance of dopamine. This brought Noah to his son, who hadn’t asked him one single question about the case. 

The fact that Stiles wasn’t all over Noah for information was the strangest part of this situation. Stiles had been eerily absent from everyone’s lives since the beginning of May, and with it presently being July and after graduation, he wasn’t sure if anyone had seen him. Noah had seen everyone else from Stiles’ “old crew” at this point trying to figure out this “epidemic.” He didn’t ask about Stiles - it was pointless. Sometimes he saw Stiles’ Jeep around town, but Stiles was never near his car when Noah looked for him. 

 

Scott took in the information that his mother gave him, wishing that Stiles was around to look at the actual papers. As much as Scott understood what she had been saying and could read the information given, Stiles was perfect at combining all the information, at finding patterns and clues. It was what got them through everything the past couple of years, but after graduation, Stiles went completely MIA. Scott currently sat in front of the pack (sans: Stiles) for their weekly meeting, hands pressed together, touching his lips, leaning forward. The pack waiting for him to finally break the silence the pack fell into when Scott took his first anxious breath. 

“So, I talked to Deaton, I’ve talked to my mom who talked to Sheriff Stilinski… Speaking of, has anyone fucking seen Stiles?” Scott asked, getting annoyed at this point by the lack of a pack member. He watched as everyone shook their heads or remained silent, then looking to Derek, who was supposed to keep tabs on Stiles because he was the only one that seemed to know where he was at all times since they met two and a half years ago. All Derek could do was sigh in defeat as he leaned back, shaking his head. It was one of those moments where Scott felt like Derek was holding something back, that he knew something and wasn’t telling Scott. 

“Anyway, I got all the information I could after speaking with Deaton. We’re looking for a sex daemon, or so to speak,” Scott said in short. He waited for the giggles the others had to subside. It was ridiculous, Scott could admit that much, that a succubus or incubus was in Beacon Hills, that they existed. 

“Succubus or Incubus?” Derek asked, leaning forward, intrigued at this revelation. He had always thought they were a myth even with him and his kind actually existing, he hadn’t been sure that daemons were real. 

“It would have to be both,” Lydia chimed in quickly, eyes going hazy as she remembered reading from Stiles’ translated bestiary. 

“Why both?” Scott asked, frowning. Deaton had said it was only one, so this went against the Druid’s prediction unless Lydia knew something Deaton didn’t. 

“Because Incubi only go after women, and there’s only one woman in the hospital. The other three were men, so there has to be a pair of them,” Lydia spoke as if this were apparent. The group looked at Lydia, unsure what to do with the information provided, while Scott chewed on his cheek, humming softly to himself. 

“Honestly, I felt like Deaton was holding information back from me. I asked him if he knew any families of Beacon Hills that… fit the bill, and he really didn’t give me anything,” Scott huffed, annoyed that people were keeping things from him and his best friend was god knows where. 

“Then we figure out where the people met these daemons, and we each go there and track them. Scott, did Deaton give you anything that would help us not be under their influence?” Derek planned and asked. It was best to be fully prepared and have a plan when going after daemons, especially daemons they knew nothing about, daemons that could alter perceptions and entrap them. 

“The men were last seen at the Jungle, and the woman at a bar down the street called Lilac Anchor,” Scott said, crossing his arms. “We’re basically going into this blind, and we don’t know what they look like, or if it is two people. There’s nothing to stop their influence, but we’re less likely to die since we have a healing factor,” Scott explained. He really hoped their ability to heal faster would save them. Scott wasn’t actually sure - it was only a guess, and Deaton barely provided enough information for Scott to interpret. 

Derek and the team nodded their heads in understanding, though Lydia’s head tilted as she thought about all that was said. She would need to find a Latin bestiary and expand her research based on the non-adapted version, which meant getting Allison to give her the book in her dad’s library without telling her what she was looking for. The pack started keeping Allison out of the meetings when things like this came up because she and her father were strict to their code, despite their new code focusing on protecting those who needed protecting. Lydia had a feeling (and she knew others felt this too) that whoever was doing this either didn’t know or couldn’t figure out how to control themselves. 

“It’s Saturday, and they usually hunt every two weeks. There wasn’t an attack last night luckily, so we’re hopefully going to find them tonight. Derek and Lydia, head to the Jungle. The girls should be able to make sure you don’t get trapped. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, go to Lilac Anchor where the woman had been. I’ll walk the blocks in that area in case they find new places to target,” Scott commanded, standing up. He stretched his body out and flashed his red eyes in determination, letting it known his commands were final.

“Alright, I’ll see you all out there. Don’t get distracted, and if you feel yourself being pulled, tell the others with you. We don’t need anyone in the hospital. This is an information mission,” Derek added seriously, watching Scott leave his loft. Clearly the other had another mission (look for Stiles, that was always their mission). Derek watched the others stand, Isaac going to his own room in the loft to change. Boyd and Erica left the loft as well to get themselves ready for the night while Lydia stayed seated, looking through Derek intently. Derek looked up to Isaac’s room and back to Lydia, waiting for her eyes to refocus on him.

“Go ahead, what did you see?” 

“Him… He’s going to end up in the hospital… I don’t know if we can prevent it, but he’s not going to make it to the bar tonight,” Lydia spoke cryptically, looking down at her delicately manicured hands - maroon-colored nail polish over acrylics. She could never keep her real nails long enough with all of the fighting and unintentional self-inflicted wounds. 

“Are you suggesting that Stiles is who we’re after?” Derek growled and stood up. He didn’t know why the other had disappeared, but to suggest that Stiles was a killer seemed impossible.

“He’s killed people before, Derek. He liked it. Nogitsune or not, we all felt how he was after it was over. Disappointment radiated from him. We also have known that he’s something, why couldn’t that something be this thing we’re after?” Lydia asked, remaining calm, staying in the lounge chair she bought for herself to be put in Derek’s loft. Her nails calmly raked through her strawberry blonde hair, making sure every strand was straight and perfect, waiting for Derek’s thick brain to finally understand what she was trying to say. 

Derek was silent for a long moment, staring her down his own red eyes flashing as he tried to control himself. She only gave him a calm look, pursing her lips before she stood and walked past him. “I’ll see you at the Jungle at 11 pm. You better change into something nicer,” she tsked, looking him up and down, her heels clicking as she walked out. Derek looked down at himself and rolled his eyes but ultimately took her advice, going up the spiral stairs to get ready for the night, to get ready for Stiles. 

 

Mountains of research had piled up in his small studio apartment to the point that there was nowhere to walk without tripping over printouts of webpages or forums. This was the apartment he got after killing the second person. Stiles couldn’t stand being in the house with his dad who started working on a case that would eventually lead to him. He felt like he was being watched and studied, like he was withholding information from his dad because he refused to answer questions or do “supernatural research” for him. It was why Stiles ended up avoiding the pack after that first full moon in May. He knew he smelled different, not to mention his body and the way he expressively presented himself around other people was changing. It wasn’t worth trying to explain, it wasn’t worth putting others and himself in danger. Stiles had already died once, and as a result, ended up killing an undisclosed amount of people. Stiles did not want to kill any more people - he knew he’d have no way to talk himself out of it this time around. The Argents were kind, but not kind enough to believe that the third person had also been a mistake. They might forgive him for making people sick as long as he could help them find a way to fix their sickness. 

Stiles stared at the calendar on his wall, regarding the dates he had marked. His birthday, April 8th, had been two days past a full moon, which made sense as to why the first time he felt that hunger was the beginning of May, a whole month past his 18th birthday. Stiles had met his first victim while dancing at The Jungle that first full moon. He remembered every detail of the man’s body and the way he smelled of pure lust while he watched Stiles dance. It heightened Stiles’ awareness of his own hunger, his own lust, his own need to be taken and given what he needed. So, Stiles gave in, went home with the man, and suffice to say they were very out of control. They desecrated his entire home, and when they were done… Stiles blacked out and woke up in his own bed the next afternoon. He couldn’t figure it out, - what the man’s name was, where he lived. It was like specific details were removed from his memory. He had stopped having memory problems a long time ago (if you call a long time ago senior year of high school). 

Stiles had been with the second man on the New Moon of May. It was the same story as the last. Stiles had been watched, drawn to the other man, they couldn’t resist each other. They ended up at the man’s place, destroying it while Stiles absorbed all the energy… the life force… the essence of the man. Then he woke up alone in his own bed, confused as he had been the first time. A week later, both men’s faces were plastered all over the local news. Stiles at least remembered their faces, and he felt a pit growing in his stomach, knowing their deaths were related to him. He began his research and his search for a new home. He had just graduated and already had a job he had been saving up with, so he rented a small studio on the shittiest part of Beacon Hills and began pinning things to his walls like a loon. That was when he realized that maybe as long as he didn’t have complete coitus, just a blow job here and there, he might be able to survive and not kill anyone. 

Unfortunately, Stiles unknowing “starved” himself when he was engrossed in his research and ended up going overboard on taking what he wanted. His third “victim,” who he sucked off in the bathroom of The Jungle, ended up in the hospital a few days later after passing out from extreme exhaustion from an aggressive outburst at work. The fourth was a woman he found right before the new moon, figuring it was better to keep away from moments in time that might make him stronger (if his experience with several different supernaturals told him anything). It was at a dingy bar he went to after work, figuring it was best to stay away from men - maybe women were safe and would satiate him without falling prey to whatever illness he gave them. He had been so needy that he and the woman ended up at her place, less destructive, though Stiles still gave in to her wanting to have sex. He resisted her want for more rounds and actually remembered going home and falling asleep in his bed. She ended up having what they thought was a schizophrenic breakdown in public before passing out like the man Stiles had met in the bathroom. Neither of them ever woke up in the hospital, so none of the doctors that examined them were able to ask symptoms or determine a cause as far as Stiles knew. 

Stiles tried to go longer this time... that was a mistake. He had gone three weeks without “feeding,” that's what Stiles called what he did, but the hunger was growing stronger. He ached and fell to the floor on his hands and knees, shaking, trying to control himself. It overtook him, and his eyes shot open, normal dark hazel eyes glowed green, overtaking that deep hazelnut Stiles’ eyes were known for. He slowly stood and shivered softly as the hunger filled his body, the want, and the need. The succubus walked up to the mirror and scoffed, turning back and forth to examine the sweatpants and t-shirt he wore. He tugged everything off and went to the large travel trunk he had in his room to hide his work clothes. The Succubus pulled out tight black jeans, torn up to expose skin, fishnets, and a black mesh crop top. He tugged the ensemble on, looking himself over again, smirking as he fussed with his hair until all the curls popped out more. Stiles had let his hair grow since the change. It was hitting his ear lobes now, the curls that were sometimes seen when his hair was shorter had come out full force. He touched his plump lips and sighed softly at the view of himself, touching different parts of his body until he realized he probably needed shoes since he was going to be walking around on foot. 

The succuba was out the door once he was done admiring himself, going down to the garage and pulling out from underneath the building. This was one of the major reasons he chose this building - his father had been trying to find him by his car, and no one could find him if he car was underneath the building he lived in. He drove to the regular block he found his meals at and pulled his car into a back alley, parking behind an abandoned restaurant. He had no idea anyone had figured him out, let alone that Lydia had a premonition about him and the man he would find. The succubus quickly got out of his Jeep and began moving out onto the streets. 

The succubus pulled out his phone and looked at the time: 11:30 pm. He was out later than expected, but that just meant more options, more people milling about a faster meal. He was really hungry, and men seemed to work better than women, so he turned to head towards The Jungle. The young man looked around, taking in the air around the people on the street, smelling one of anger and sexual repression - the most interesting of all. He looked for the person as he walked, eyes roaming away from where he was walking until he ended up running into that man. The young brunette stared up at the large, burly blond man, his own mouth making an ‘o’ shape, feeling himself practically salivating at the sight. The succuba breathed him in and placed his hands on the large man, feeling the expanse of his chest and muscles and the emotions that ran through him. It was clear he wanted the small twinkish man, but that more powerful repression inside of the man was the most resistant. 

“Why don’t we find a nice alleyway?” the brunette purred up at the man, his body looking inviting and wanton. It was easier to try to seduce the way most do rather than use unnecessary energy that he didn’t really have to get the meal he wanted. 

The man gagged and pushed the brunette away, unable to get the young man off of him as the succubus had a vice grip on his arm. “Get away from me, faggot,” the blond man growled as he tried to remove the small, lean hands from his body. 

The succubus couldn’t control himself and began releasing what could only be described as sexual energy into the man and pushed more pheromones around them. The pheromones were a lot stronger than what normally surrounded him as a succubus. He felt the other man become pliable under his hands. The other’s will resisted while his body followed the succuba to an alley just around the corner. The succubus pressed the man up against the wall, claiming his lips hard and desperate, pulling what essence he could from the other through their rough kiss. He made sure to continue skin to skin contact as he got the other’s pants undone. The succuba looked back up, one hand on the man’s member and fell to his knees slowly, only stroking the other’s cock. 

“Can I help you with that?” the succubus purred softly - his voice had a musical sound to it. He was absolutely pleased he found such a passionate man (even if that passion was hate-based) who was turned on without the succubus’ assistance. All the man gave was a lame nod and the young man went to work quickly. The succuba wrapped his mouth around the head of the member and began teasing the other’s slit, maintaining eye contact. Soon he was bobbing his head down the man’s member, feeling the weight, and moved his hands so he was holding the blond’s waist, swallowing the cock to the back of his throat. He could feel the energy coming out of the man and into his body, moaning in delight as his hunger subsided, control coming back, and power flowing back through his veins. 

The succubus had removed his hands only for a moment to pull off briefly and catch a breath, examining the member in front of him. Stiles’ mouth was open wide, saliva dripping down his plump lips. Slowly, dark hazel eyes focused on the heavy cock in front of him and traveled up the muscular body, small pants leaving his mouth in the cold air. 

*

Once Stiles’ eyes landed on the man’s arm cocked back and the blond’s snarling face, he gasped out an ‘Oh fuck’ as a fist connected with his face. Stiles' head smacked down on the concrete, his vision spotting black and white. He could hear the guy shuffling, putting his member back into his pants, and Stiles tried to make a noise or push himself up despite not being able to see or feel anything. Everything was foggy, and before Stiles could make any progress in getting away, a foot repeatedly rammed into his stomach. His vision came back with a bright blast as his eyes found the illuminated streets. 

Stiles tried crawling away again now that he had his bearings, tried getting up, but he was grabbed by his shirt and felt a fist to his face again. Again and again, what felt like a stone landed on his face over and over, blood coughed up with no reprieve from the man’s fist. He could hear slurs being yelled at him through the ringing in his ears, his mesh-shirt torn by the force of the man’s hands keeping him upright, and he hit the ground once the shirt was completely ripped through. The blond man was back to kicking, grabbing Stiles by his long hair to hold him up enough until the force of the final kick sent him into a wall. Stiles could only hear hot breaths, a disgusted sound, the feel of spit on his face, and the word ‘faggot’ before feet finally walked away from him.


	2. (Healers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you joined in on this story initially, please recheck out chapter 1 as it has been beta'd and updated (updated dates will always be posted).
> 
> This chapter has been updated 7/9/19 and beta'd by my lovely friend, Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag, please give them some love and read their wonderfully entrapping works! <3
> 
> No TW that I know of for this ch <3 (let me know if you want any added)  
> sort of some maintenance that is mandatory. The next few chapters will be that way (with some fun dashed in)

“You actually made it, I was expecting you to bail given what I told you I saw,” Lydia hummed, arms crossed under her breasts perked up by the black lacey bustier she was wearing. Lydia was dressed to actually show off her body. It was rare for her to not wear a loose dress or skirt, instead she wore tight black jeans that stopped right below her belly button and showed off the curve of her ass. Her long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, loose curls and a braid wrapped around the hair tie to hide it. It was interesting to see Lydia in such form-fitting clothes, but she was in her normal stilettos, not practical for running, but very practical for their “disguise”. 

“I’m thirty minutes late, what could have happened in that time?” Derek grumbled looking around, hands tucked into his black torn up jeans that hung loosely around his waist. He wore a black tank top and an open button-down that barely fit over his shoulders. His moss-green eyes looked over the line of men and women trying to get into The Jungle, his ears intent on listening to anything suspicious, and his nose taking in everyone’s scents waiting for something out of the ordinary, something that wasn’t human. Derek’s eyes landed back on the young woman waiting for an answer. 

Lydia had opened her mouth to reply when her eyes glazed over, she saw a familiar face trying to call for help, heard the crying and whimpering. Derek called her name to pull her back forward but Lydia sank deeper into the vision, she began shaking, her legs pulled her around the corner and down the street. It felt as though blood was spilling from her forehead down her face and out of her mouth, pain, and heat spreading inside. Suddenly she felt a large, strong hand on her arm causing her pain and was ripped back to reality. She turned and looked up at Derek, ponytail flying over her shoulder, strands loosening and gently caressing her forehead. Lydia was gasping, panting, pulling against Derek to try to get to Stiles, the other should know what she was going after, why she had to. Others she could stop herself and control herself, but the only person that was closest to her she had to protect. 

“Lydia, is it happening now?” He growled, trying to get her to focus. Lydia had warned him that Stiles was going to be hurt tonight while on the hunt, but he needed her to focus so they could actually help him.

“He’s… He’s bleeding, inside… It’s all inside,” she cried, clawing at her stomach, dull acrylics barely leaving marks on her soft pale skin. Lydia was panicking and tears were already spilling from her bright green eyes, Derek wasn’t moving fast enough, they could prevent this death. 

“Is he inside? Or is he bleeding internally?” Derek asked the crying young woman. His green eyes searched hers a long moment before releasing her arm. He knew it was no use asking, she had gotten really good at figuring out most details, but sometimes she had to follow instinct and all Derek could do was follow. Derek didn’t want another death on his hands, especially a preventable one. 

Once he let go of her she moved quicker than before, the urgency filling her up, the pain controlling her until she landed against a wall of an alley crying when she saw the crumpled body against the wall. Stiles’ breaths were shaky, his pulse weak, but Derek knew it was him, he was covered in blood and bruises, but he could still see the moles that always littered Stiles’ body. Derek huffed out the toxic smell of death lingering in the air around the young man and moved towards him, sitting him up against the wall. When he touched Stiles’ bruised skin, the young man groaned in pain. Derek’s vein’s pulsed black as he pulled Stiles’ pain away from him. The young man sighed when he felt a familiar feeling of euphoria hit him, Stiles’ hand weakly gripped Derek’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Lydia, call an ambulance,” Derek commanded, making sure she did it before moving back onto Stiles. Derek muttered to himself about how ridiculous this whole situation was and slowly laid Stiles out, pulling off the tattered mesh shirt that was clinging to the cuts. Stiles’ breaths were shallow and filled with the sound of gurgling blood in his throat. His hand went up Derek’s body to find something else to grip which ended up being Derek’s stubbled cheek. He couldn’t see through the swelling on his face and around his eyes, but he knew that voice, that smell (How did he know the smell?). Stiles felt comforted knowing that Derek had found him, despite the fact he would have to now explain why he smelled different and how he got into this situation. 

“Stiles, it’s me, Derek… Lydia called an ambulance,” Derek huffed and tilted his head when he heard the ambulance finally coming after what seemed like too long, “We’re going to get you to a doctor.” 

Stiles gurgled feeling his throat filling up with more blood the more he tried to talk, tried to stop Derek from taking him somewhere he really didn’t want to be. Somewhere, where all of his victims were and he would have to feel their energy in the same space as himself. Derek shushed him quietly, trying to calm Stiles down, knowing exactly why the other didn’t want to be there. The werewolf pulled Stiles off the wall and into his arms holding him tilted against his chest so he would stop breathing in the blood, his hand gripped his bare shoulder while the other held his legs up off the ground, trying to draw some pain away. 

Lydia waved the ambulance down, it skidded as it pulled over and the EMS crew quickly came out going to Derek. They gently pulled Stiles from Derek’s tight grasp after Lydia got Derek to relax enough to let them. The werewolf stood up and stood next to Lydia, the young woman gripping his arm to prevent him from leaving his spot. 

“Who called this in?” One of the lingering EMS workers asked. 

“I did,” Lydia breathed slowly standing. 

“Do You know him?”

“I do.”

“Come inside then, he can meet us at the hospital after the officers talk to him,” the EMS worked said, ushering Lydia into the back of the truck before it drove off. Derek slowly stood watching the ambulance rushed away and saw the Sheriff walk towards him glaring at Derek. It was clear the Sheriff had no idea who had just gone away in the ambulance and that Lydia had kept Stiles’ identity a secret. Derek looked at the posture of the Sheriff, and it was clear was displeased to see him, one of Noah’s hands were on his gun, the other holding a clipboard to get a statement. Derek sighed sufferably before nodding once to the man and shuffled a bit to meet the Sheriff halfway. 

“Do you know what happened here?” The sheriff asked. 

Derek sighed and looked towards the fleeing ambulance, “Lydia had a vision your son was going to be here, dead if we didn’t get to him. He was almost there when we found him. So we called the ambulance.”

Noah sucked in a breath, he hadn’t known who had been ushered into that ambulance, just that a young man had been brutalized on the streets of downtown Beacon Hills. Noah quickly spoke into his radio, letting others know he’d be leaving his shift early to go to the hospital. “Will you sniff the man out that did this?” He asked Derek. 

Derek took a long moment to inhale the air and the scents that lingered in the alleyway. “I can try, but he’ll probably end up in the hospital because of what Stiles did to him,” Derek spoke bluntly. Noah had to know that his son was the cause of this epidemic, if Stiles had his way, he wouldn’t tell anyone. That would only end up with his dad getting hurt in the process and Stiles wouldn’t forgive himself for that, and the young man had enough guilt filling him up about the past. 

“What are you saying? He asked for this hate crime?” Noah growled at the wolf. 

“No, I’m saying he’s the one making people sick,” Derek growled back, lower and deeper, almost pleased with the shiver the human’s body made. Noah felt himself sink internally more and stared down at the notepad he held and breathed for a long moment. It was clear that Noah fully understood the impact of what Derek said, the Sheriff had been the one to bring this case to them and now he knew he was going after Stiles.

“Did you drive or do you need a ride?” Noah asked heading towards his police car reluctantly, rubbing the back of his neck, his other hand moving to his handcuffs. 

“Need a ride,” Derek grunted. The werewolf’s eyes landed on the officer’s hand, his immediate thought had been that Noah was going to arrest him, but came to the realization through the smell of anxiety on the man, that he’d be cuffing his own son. The Sheriff allowed Derek to sit in the front seat, surprisingly, and the wolf slouched a bit allowing his nerves to run through him. It was distressing that the creature they were all after was Stiles. He would have to contact Scott, his Co-Alpha, let him know what happened to their night, but he was worried about what Scott would do when he found out. 

 

“Lydia do you know what happened to him?” Nurse McCall asked as she looked over Stiles’ beaten form. 

“No, I didn’t see, but he’s not dead, right? I got to him in time?” She asked, her hands holding Stiles’ tightly. Stiles was glad for the comfort, for his best friend, she had been the best thing that happened to him since she noticed him. 

Stiles and Lydia had been asked over the course of the past year at least if they were dating, but they weren’t and never would. They shared a love deeper than others could understand, it was the same sort of bond Stiles shared with Derek (though they would have never admitted it). Lydia and Stiles were there for each other through every tragedy she suffered and felt and the torture he was put through. They were affectionate and close, but the past few months had their bond had weakened, which is what caused them both so much individual suffering. 

Melissa looked at the young woman, understanding the deeper meaning of the question and smiled kindly, her eyes wrinkling. “You made it in time, he’s going to make it. You’re definitely the reason he’s going to be alive,” the nurse conveyed to the banshee. Lydia sobbed out happily and gently kissed Stiles’ soft hand, laughing softly as she felt Stiles squeeze her hand to comfort her. 

Melissa pushed an IV line into Stiles and worked on cleaning and bandaging the open wounds on his face and sides. The doctor finally came over to their section of hell in the ER and tsked. “We’re going to put him in for a full-body CT scan to see what kind of damage the internal bleeding has caused and it will show us what bones are broken,” the doctor spoke feeling Stiles’ broken ribs, bruising and watched his blood pressure slowly dropping. “His platelet count was abnormal, we know thanks to EMS delivering a blood sample upon arrival, and he keeps coughing up dark-colored blood, which is what I would prefer. He, by some miracle, doesn’t have a brain bleed, but I want to ensure he doesn’t have one of his broken ribs puncturing an organ. We don’t need to add him to the surgery list.” The doctor placed Stiles’ chart at the end of his bed as the young man was about to move all about the hospital. 

“Nurse McCall, the technician is already here to take him if you want to bring Ms. Martin with them you can, I know you know the kid personally. Ms. Martin when you get back, Mr. Stilinski’s other guests will be in the private room in the ICU we have set up waiting,” He spoke effectively and walked away. Lydia pulled her hand out of Stiles’ so the technician could take Stiles away to the CT scan. Lydia and Melissa fell in step behind the technician and Stiles wanting to accompany so that Stiles wasn’t left alone with a clueless human.

Nurse McCall took Lydia’s arm and walked slowly watching the halls as they moved to the radiology department. Lydia could feel Melissa staring at Stiles for a long time, it was clear the woman was furious about Stiles being the seeming victim of a hate crime. It was also clear Melissa had been wanting to ask the questions she had about how they managed to find Stiles, but unsure if it was the appropriate time. Lydia breathed slowly, trying to calm her heartbeat and looked to Melissa finally for the first time since entering the hospital. The woman deserved to know the truth, she was the reason they ended up figuring out who the creature was that they were after. 

“No, Stiles and I aren’t dating,” Lydia started, trying to ease the tension with a joke and a small smile, “He’s the one who has been making everyone sick… he just caught the wrong… ‘victim’ this time.” Lydia breathed shallowly, admitting out loud that Stiles was a predator. It was hard the first time when he was the Nogitsune, it was going to be hard now, to see him that way, watch him be that way. 

Melissa tripped over her feet a bit at Lydia’s blunt admission. She stared at Stiles’ limp body a few minutes too long, contemplating a reply when they finally entered the room where his scan would be conducted. They stood in the room side by side watching the radiologist work on the computer-side of the machine, Stiles was laid down on the bed. The radiologist began working and as the pictures flashed across the screen Melissa sighed in relief. 

“It looks like there was a minor bleed, but the IV fluids must have helped the clotting process. He has a few broken ribs on each side, a broken arm, but no organs were punctured severely,” The radiologist explained as the images appeared. The imaging moved up to his upper torso and head, “His clavicle has a fracture, his hyoid and mandible are fractured as well. He’s going to be stuck in the hospital for a while.” 

Once the full body scan was finished the pair and the nurse with Stiles moved to the intensive care unit where they had a room set up for him because not only was his body a broken mess, but he still had a danger of having a brain bleed with the amount of trauma to his head. The full-body CT scan that Stiles received didn’t show any issues associated with his brain only the broken bones and the remnants of internal bleeding. When they reached the room Derek was already sitting in one of the chairs next to the bed, Stiles’ father in the other. 

Stiles smiled dopily after he was laid down in the ICU bed, his eyes were still swollen shut, but the pain meds were flowing through him finally. The familiar scents in the air of his father and Derek had him smiling more. It was comfortable to have everyone he cared about around him, the scents of concern freely flowing through the air. Stiles flopped his IV hand out, his dad’s warm hand taking it with care, his other hand was being placed in a clay cast, waiting for the nurses to prep the actual cast materials for him and his arm. 

“My favorite guys,” Stiles wheezed and slurred. His dad made a face at Derek, not understanding why Stiles would even say that about the werewolf. 

“Don’t talk Stiles, you took some damage to your hyoid bone and jaw,” Melissa said with a small sigh, patting his leg genty. All Stiles said in response was a drunken happy hum, he was definitely fine with not talking for a while, especially with the pain all gone. His head lolled to the other side to face Derek, he let out a small whine trying to get Derek to tell him how ugly he looked.

“You’re nose might actually look normal once the plastic surgeon is done with you,” Derek teased, tugging on Stiles’ still blood-soaked hair. Derek’s nose wrinkled as the young man was still covered in his own blood, the smell was mixing in with Stiles’ normal scent, tainting it. 

“Derek, Stiles and I can’t afford that for him,” Noah breathed softly, looking at his son’s destroyed face. They would only afford what a regular doctor could do for him which was reset his nose and hope the scars that would end up on his face wouldn’t be too bad.

Derek and Lydia snorted and spoke at the same time, “I’ll handle the bills,” and looked at each other with a small glare. Neither of them were hurting for money, and for Lydia specifically, her mother considered Stiles as her own son after everything he did to help Lydia stay sane and vice versa. Noah shook his head about to deny them when he received seriously threatening looks from the werewolf and the banshee so he decided to keep his mouth shut and let them work out their issues.

 

After the original swelling had gone down, the on-staff plastic surgeon made a plan of action to set the bones in his face properly and make sure he healed with the most minimal scarring possible. A week after the minor reconstructive surgery, Stiles’ face was no longer swollen, he was laying in bed bandage holding his nose and covering the stitches all over the rest of his face. He had his left arm in a cast and his torso was wrapped tightly. He had a nasopharyngeal tube to make him eat since his hyoid bone and jaw were still fractured. Stiles’ father, Noah, had been in and out of the hospital, giving him worried looks anytime he thought Stiles was looking. When Melissa would come in for the regular status updates nurses had to do, she was no different with her tiny glances. It was like they knew something and didn’t know how to bring it up with Stiles and currently, he was sitting in the room alone with Derek staring at the whiteboard he’d been using to communicate with everyone. 

‘Why do they keep staring at me weird?’ Stiles finally wrote after thirty minutes of staring at the board contemplating everything that had been going on. They were finally alone together, it was time that they had a “private” conversation. He turned the board slightly so Derek could see it, but the man was basically cuddled up next to the bed Stiles was in. The werewolf’s chair hadn’t moved since the first night and Derek, himself, only moved to get himself food and more comfortable items like a blanket. It was nice to have constant company, especially with Derek because he was the least judgemental of the pack and his family. He understood probably the best where Stiles was at emotionally. 

Derek sighed looking at the board and shifted uncomfortably, “Because they found out what you are and aren’t sure what to do with you. The guy that assaulted you for… you know… wants to press charges and your dad is trying to figure out how to bring it up to you.” There was a lot he knew they should go over, talk about, to each other (maybe with Lydia present, she definitely had some things to say) and then to the rest of the pack, but right now he just wanted to give Stiles some peace of mind and peace and quiet. That was all he could provide right now while Stiles was healing, and at an alarmingly slow rate for someone with supernatural abilities. 

Stiles stared at his whiteboard for another long moment deciding what he wanted to admit at that moment. He had chosen a whiteboard because he didn’t want to leave documentation of what he wanted to say if he wanted to have a private conversation like this, he wanted it to stay that way and not have others (mainly his father) in his business. ‘I blacked out until I had him up against the wall.’ Stiles wrote, remembering pinning the man and falling to his knees hungry. He at least had enough of his mind to make sure he got consent. He always wanted it in these situations of hunger. It felt wrong, well, more wrong, taking their energy without their permission first. ‘I asked and he said yes. I blacked out more and when I came to, a fist hit my face,’ Stiles wrote and showed Derek. 

“Did he say yes? Like verbally?” Derek looked Stiles in his eyes for a long moment, because he had overheard what the man had been saying to the other officers across the nurse station, and it wasn’t in Stiles’ favor. 

Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek trying to remember through the fog of lust and hunger from that night. ‘He nodded his head,’ he replied with writing, looking to Derek meekly. Stiles knew he was probably in deep shit. The laws were not on Stiles’ side currently, and he wasn’t sure his dad could get him out of this situation.

Derek sighed and rubbed his own forehead, “So, you didn’t get a verbal confirmation and you can barely remember what you were doing anyway. But, I don’t think he can press charges when you’re the one in the hospital with the broken bones and he’s only here because he’s “sick”.” Derek tried to work through the situation out loud to try to get Stiles to calm down as his scent had changed to match the anxiety he felt and it was leaving a sour taste in Derek’s mouth. 

Stiles tried to calm down, he could smell Derek’s pheromones, they were different this time, he was almost starting to feel calm from taking them in. The man trying to press charges meant his dad had to present him with a warrant for his arrest, and cuff him to the ICU bed for as long as he stayed in ICU. Once he was out, he’d be sent to jail and then probably house arrest since he luckily had his father as the Sheriff. Stiles wrote quickly, his thoughts racing about a trial that would be against him in every way. ‘That means he can use the gay panic defense.’

“Excuse me, what?” Derek asked with a frown, staring at the board Stiles hadn’t bothered showing him. 

Stiles erased the writing just as quickly as he wrote it in hopes that Derek wouldn’t have enough time to read it, but was unlucky. He ended up just waving his hand, dismissing what he said, it wasn’t important anymore his focused had switched to another topic, ‘Are all of my victims in ICU with me?’

Derek grunted at the subject change but was going to let it go, for now, “Yes, both of the men and that woman are in this section. The guy that attacked you has already tried coming to your room multiple times, they have him strapped down now. For a guy who is extremely sick, he’s not acting fatigued at all,” Derek growled protectively.

‘So, when do you want to talk about what I am?’

“Not until you can actually talk again. Or until Lydia loses her mind with your thoughts being so loud.”

‘Are you saying I’m Peter and she’s Meridith in this scenario?’

“Yes, apparently your thoughts move a lot faster and more chaotically than when you talk normally,” Derek snorted. It was one of the reasons Lydia didn’t visit often, she was getting frustrated with Stiles’ screaming thoughts and her inability to do anything about them. She knew Derek could handle Stiles by himself and could protect Stiles by himself.

‘Well at least I’m not making a deadpool while comatose,’ Stiles laughed softly at his written joke, glad for the pain medication so he didn’t feel most of the pain from the action. 

“Do you know why you’re not healing fast?” Derek asked giving Stiles a moment to regain himself after his painful laughing fit. It was bothering the werewolf that the brunette wasn’t getting better, he had healed from internal bleeding, but nothing else. There was something up with Stiles, something that the eight-teen-year-old hadn’t told anyone yet.

The young man nodded slowly glancing at Derek, his teeth back to chewing on his lip. ‘I need to feed,’ he wrote out, feeling himself heat up in embarrassment and shame. He erased what he wrote and started scribbling again, ‘I blacked out that night because it had been three weeks since the last time I was with someone.’ He really hoped Derek would move on from this topic, it wasn’t like there was anything anyone could do without them getting sick. 

Derek watched Stiles avoiding eye contact and felt himself get annoyed. The other smelled of shame and it was disruptive and unnecessary for the other to feel. Everyone knew Stiles couldn’t help it, it was clearly a recent change, no one would blame him for the accidental lives he took, for the people he made sick. Stiles had taken all of this change on by himself when there was a whole pack of individuals that would be more than willing to help him figure out what was going on with him and how to handle it. Derek sighed out slowly, his deep voice flowing with it, he had been really thinking about this situation, about Stiles’ situation and need to feed. Derek was pretty sure he wouldn’t get sick, and if he did, he’d heal, unlike the human victims. He looked to the closed door and back to Stiles decidedly, he would have to let Stiles use him to save everyone else. 

“How much pain is your jaw in right now?” Derek asked Stiles, standing slowly, brushing his hands down his clothes, smoothing them.

Stiles’ head turned so fast he winced at the broken bones in his face aching from the muscles pulling on them. His mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape and he choked on the tube in his throat as a noise tried to escape. He looked down at the whiteboard and scribbled quicker than he had thought possible. ‘My face doesn’t hurt that bad, but I have a fucking feeding tube and I’m gross and why do you smell like that??’ He shoved the board in Derek’s face, trying to get the man to leave him be. He could smell the lust and want on the werewolf and Stiles wasn’t the one making the other feel that way. Stiles felt more confused than anything at this point.

Derek growled in annoyance, Stiles was avoiding him now and what needed to be done to fix Stiles’ current state. The whiteboard was knocked to the floor and Derek loomed over the eighteen-year-old. Derek put a knee on the bed next to Stiles’ hip, slowly and gently he straddled the other, making sure none of his weight fell on Stiles. Stiles panicked under the much larger man realizing what he was planning on doing. The brunette tried to move his casted arm to cover his face, but it was pinned to his chest in a sling. His other arm was attached to IV fluids and attempting to lift his arms was painful for his broken ribs. Derek gently took Stiles’ head into his hands and waited for the other’s heart to slow to an almost normal beat, he didn’t need nurses rushing in because Stiles’ heart rate rose. The werewolf could smell the arousal spilling from Stiles, and the absolute hunger and need to take from Derek that wafted off of him. Derek had to control himself and the situation, Stiles didn’t know how to control himself, so Derek had to be that control for him.

“Kissing is enough, right? You can get energy or… whatever it is you eat... from kissing, right?” Derek asked barely above a whisper, trying to keep prying ears outside the door from hearing him. He made sure his question was calm and slow, so Stiles could focus on the words and Derek’s calming breath.

Stiles’ mouth closed before he opened it again and sighed, the sound rough, “Enough to heal bones,” Stiles rasped out, coughing a bit. He shut his eyes for a long moment, Derek letting the other settle with the idea, “thank god you heal,” Stiles muttered. 

The young succuba’s eyes opened and flashed green at the other, an eerily similar color to the werejaguar that was Kate Argent, but a hint of Stiles’ normal hazel brown lingered around his blown pupils. Stiles breathed in Derek’s arousal, humming in a deep, choked voice (the feeding tube really messed with his speech and breathing ability). Stiles felt like he was pulsating under Derek’s hands, and Derek was being pulled into it, the heat and the want of the brunette. It was overwhelming. The werewolf understood how it was easy for Stiles’ victims to succumb to the succuba. Derek leaned in to the other when he felt Stiles finally relax in his warm hands, the werewolf pressed his lips to Stiles’ gently. They gave each other a few chaste kisses to get a feel for one another, to relax into the motions until they completely gave in. Their eyes were half-lidded, both wanting to see the other’s reactions, wanting to make sure the trust stayed.

Derek held Stiles’ face still to make sure he didn’t move and disrupt his slowly setting bones. The werewolf began pulling pain from the younger man while receiving pleasure from the succuba’s talented lips and tongue. They fought for dominance over one another, biting lips, growling at each other, their tongues dancing together until Stiles finally let the wolf inside. Derek felt like he had been tricked into winning, it didn’t feel like a win of dominance in a game, it felt like this was exactly what the succubus wanted. He growled louder in frustration, gently tilting Stiles’ head back. The wolf shifted his weight above Stiles to take his mouth the way Derek wanted, conquering territory as he gave his energy to the other. Derek could feel his life force pouring out into the other’s body, but with the delicate, IV’d hand gripping Derek’s thick wrist desperately, he didn’t care, he was willing to give Stiles his life at this point. How much of that was Stiles’ influence in this moment he didn’t know and didn’t care, he was content to continue for as long as Stiles needed him. Suddenly, Stiles pushed Derek off of him with a low moan spilling out of him. He covered his mouth so Derek wouldn’t try that again, trying to protect the other. Stiles fell back on the bed shutting his eyes as he took shuddering breaths, trying to calm his heart rate down again. He really didn’t want nurses seeing him like this. 

“I need you to stop… Because if you don’t, I might make you do things the hospital will regret seeing,” he cracked, swallowing weakly against the tube. Derek breathed heavily and worked his way off the bed without disrupting Stiles’ weak body and fell into his chair. His eyes wandered over to the camera in the room and covered his face in embarrassment. He had forgotten Stiles was under constant surveillance while the police were waiting for him to get out of the hospital. The werewolf’s head lolled back on the top of the chair before turning to look at Stiles, watching the bruising on his face leave as well as listening to the stitching of his bones inside the succuba’s body. 

“I guess it worked,” Derek murmured, feeling completely blissed out, shutting his eyes to enjoy the feeling of ecstasy. Stiles huffed out laughter at the other’s lack of sense and slowly nodded his head. 

“Thanks, sour wolf… that was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” Stiles wheezed keeping his eyes shut to work through the pain of the supernatural healing he had never had to deal with before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments  
> I'd love to hear from y'all  
> ideas/requests


	3. (BIIITCH)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been updated 7/15/19 and beta'd by my lovely friend, Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag, please give them some love and read their perfectly smutty! <3

“So how come you healed all of a sudden?” Melissa asked, giving a knowing look to the two young men. Scott had told her what sort of creature the pack was after, why people were sick, and with a sick man in the same unit trying to attack Stiles, she put two and two together, figuring out what Stiles was. The young man definitely did not heal on his own and with Derek pretending to be asleep, that was enough of an answer in of itself. 

“I guess I just figured out how to trigger it?” Stiles lied. The werewolves/were-creatures could trigger their own healing, so it wasn’t too far fetched that Stiles would be able to. 

Derek stayed “asleep” to avoid any awkward looks he would probably receive, and he definitely did not want to explain the video footage that was definitely saved somewhere. But since Stiles was actually healing and was doing better overall he really didn’t mind if someone knew. Making sure Stiles was safe was his number one priority. The alpha could tell the eighteen-year-old had been starving himself for the sake of others and it was almost admirable how much he managed without the energy he needed. And Derek suspected Stiles would need to feed soon after all the healing he was doing. 

“I guess I’m going to pull the tube out and get your cast off. I’ll do the paperwork to discharge you after we’re done here,” Melissa hummed, happy to let Stiles out of the hospital early. She didn’t want him near his own victims and she was sure they didn’t want to be near him, except only one seemed to link his sickness with Stiles. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Stiles rapsed with a weary smile. 

“Possibly,” Melissa teased getting herself in position to pull the tube out, getting a towel ready and disconnected part of the tube from the feeding bag.

“I want to surprise Scott and my dad,” Stiles asked with a smile. Really, Stiles wanted to go back to hiding in his apartment, away from his dad who would have to bring him in on the charges against him, and stay far away from Scott who would never understand why Stiles unknowingly killed and knowingly made people sick.

“Of course, I’ll keep it a secret. Lydia is on her way up to help with the discharge costs too, so you three will be able to escape with no one knowing.” She patted Stiles IV arm gently. She got to work peeling back his face bandages, and then the nose bandage that held the nasopharyngeal feeding tube in place. She quickly pulled it out, trying to have minimal gagging on Stiles’ end, she really did not want to be thrown up on. Stiles knew that eventually, his throat wouldn’t hurt so much, the tube had been rough on the way out, but he was glad she did it swiftly because the gagging was almost too much to handle. Stiles also was hoping to earn sympathy points from her and Derek who had “just woken up”. 

The nurse gave the brunette a small smile at the request. He was basically her second son, she couldn’t deny him anything (Scott she certainly could, but not Stiles). She pulled out his IV and worked on sawing off the cast on his arm she knew he didn’t need, probably thanks to Derek, but she really didn’t want to go into that with them. “Of course. Scott doesn’t know you were in the hospital, Derek and your dad asked me not to tell him, so… Be careful when you tell him about all of… this,” Melissa said, rubbing out Stiles’ sore arm that had been in the cast before leaving to do paperwork with Lydia. 

 

With paperwork finished, Stiles was ushered out by Derek and Lydia, led to the sleek black Camaro that, frankly, always turned Stiles on just a little bit. Once inside, Stiles pulled down the visor to stare at his minorly reconstructed face in the mirror. He touched his nose gingerly humming softly to himself, the angle of his nose was different, it wasn’t so piggish anymore, but he knew that most people wouldn’t notice the slight tilt of the tip was now more downward. 

“He did a good job, can’t really tell a difference,” Lydia said with a kind smile, “He does great rhinoplasties, he fixed the small bump on mine when I was in high school, no one even noticed.” Stiles glanced at her and they shared a knowing look, he noticed, of course, he noticed the minor change in her nose shape. Lydia wouldn’t admit out loud around anyone that Stiles was the only person that noticed anything about her. There were really only two people Stiles kept his eyes on, and they were both in this car, trying to protect Stiles from the powers that be, that wanted him destroyed. 

“So, you gonna take me home or somewhere else secret?” Stiles asked. Prepared to give away his address but definitely not prepared to face Scott and the rest of the pack, but mostly not ready to face Scott. His high school best friend always had a hard time with the fact that Stiles had a list of dead bodies on his hands longer than anyone else they knew (maybe except Derek). To add two more (maybe five if the other three people in the hospital didn’t survive), would probably be unforgivable and Scott would have no issue with letting Chris hunt Stiles down. 

“Why don’t we see his new apartment, Derek, and we’ll discuss everything, I’m sure he has a wall of research he wants to show us,” Lydia hummed, knowing Stiles had thoroughly searched to find the answers he needed. Derek agreed and left.

Once the trio was in downtown Beacon City, Stiles directed Derek through the streets to a tall complex and into the underground parking. He had Derek pull into his empty parking spot, Stiles assumed his dad brought his car to his home since no one knew where Stiles was living, until now. He took them up the elevator, down the hall and slowly walked in. He was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants his dad brought him at the hospital and was really looking about as messy as his small studio. 

“So you went crazy,” Lydia hummed looking around for a clean place to sit. Lydia couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised by the chaos, but she had seen how Stiles kept his room at his father's house, and it was pristine. It was clear Stiles had felt only chaos and probably got minimal sleep which didn’t help his situation at all. She settled on pulling a jacket from Stiles’ closet and laid it down on a broken futon he had against the opposing wall. Derek decidedly took a seat on Stiles’ mattress that was on the floor and Lydia laid out a clean jacket on a broken futon couch Stiles had and sat down. Stiles nervously began to clean and organize the documents and books to clear some floor space, ignoring the wall he had pictures and articles pinned to with different colored string pinned in what seemed like a random pattern. 

“I just wanted to figure all of this out before I dragged anyone into this mess… Which I guess is too late now,” Stiles muttered. He found a spot on the floor and sat down cross-legged running his hands through his messy hair. “So what did you want to know or ask?”

“Deaton told Scott that incubi and succubi were daemons? Sex daemons? Can you explain what he meant and also which one you are?” Derek asked calmly, looking over the information plastered everywhere in a way only Stiles would understand. 

Stiles sighed and nodded, at least those were easier questions. “I’m not possessed by a daemon, so being a sex daemon isn’t possible. And since I have experience with possession, being possessed, killing and manipulating people under possession, I know that this isn’t it,” Stiles huffed, feeling a bit attacked at the inaccurate description Deaton made. “The sex part is probably the most accurate.” The young brunette rubbed his face, trying to actually rub out the anxiety he felt associated with this conversation. 

“As for what I am… Most people would say I’m an incubus because I have a penis… but the way that I get my energy best and the way different types of people respond made me do some linguistic research into the names in the bestiary. Incubus means to “lay upon” while succubus means “to lay under” and I can definitely tell you getting fucked is the better bang for my buck than doing the fucking. I barely got anything from that woman when I fucked her versus the two men that died when they fucked me,” Stiles breathed. He knew what kind of sex he enjoyed more too, but it wasn’t as pertinent as the fact that the woman he went all the way with was only sick and the men he went all the way with were dead. 

“So you’re a succubus?” Lydia asked. 

Only Stiles would figure out the translations were based on Judeo-Christian, heteronormative, English translations that didn’t actually hold up to how the supernatural worked. It really showed how deeply Stiles wanted to understand himself without the intervention of people that might warp his perception of himself and cause further damage, it was smart actually. The way Deaton had been going about explaining each individual supernatural they found had caused more chaos than it stopped. Stiles had clearly noticed the pattern and was not just trying to protect himself from others but from the people that wanted him dead. He wanted to protect himself from something that may prevent complete understanding and the ability to stop the trouble he was causing. Lydia always admired Stiles for his forethought.

“To sum it up… yea,” Stiles hummed in response looking down to his sweatpants, pulling on a thread. He smelled the air trying to gauge the room and he didn’t smell any disdain or anyone being uncomfortable or any disbelief. He was pleased and thankful for it. Stiles wasn’t sure what he would do if the two closest people to him ended up hating him for something he was asking help for. 

“And men work better than women?” Derek surmised. The information made sense, he shared a gaze with Lydia, coming to the same conclusion that she did for why Stiles kept this all to himself. It was courageous and Derek felt a sense of pride in the young man. 

“Well, that is to say, a penis somewhere inside me seems to work better than my dick inside someone, so whatever they identify as, I just need a good dickin’,” Stiles joked looking up at them with an awkward smile. 

“Stop being so crass,” Lydia huffed and with a purse of her lips looked away feeling flushed. 

“Sorry, I’m just trying to say that I feed off of sexual energy in general, but that's what makes me believe the translations for incubus and succubus are wrong and that’s why I’m a succubus, not an incubus. It isn’t masculine or feminine energy, it’s the sexual energy that comes from someone being inside of me.” The throuple all watched each other intently, Stiles trying to avoid eyes, for the most part, taking in his friend's body language, trying to see how they were doing. Mostly trying to see how Derek was doing, and he seemed to have no problems. 

“So what does it feel like when you feed?” Derek asked because of course, Derek asked. He had first-hand experience with being on the giving end for Stiles, “How does it work? Since… I mean, we?” Derek stopped short, his face contorting in constipation, a look he hadn’t had since he came back to Beacon Hills. Derek had resolved a lot of his anger issues which resolved his inability to emote or relay information that had an emotional attachment to it, so this was a surprise for the other supernaturals in the room. 

“Since you two what?” Lydia asked, carefully watching brown and green eyes darting to anywhere but each other and Lydia. She watched for a moment longer before releasing a small snort. “Of course you let him feed off of you…”

“He wasn’t healing!” Derek argued. Lydia just laughed in response and rolled her eyes, her legs crossed relaxing back on the futon. 

“It wasn’t anything weird Lydia, we just made out, a lot,” Stiles smirked a bit, winking at the young woman. Sure he had pined for her since third grade, but when Derek came into their lives in high school, Stiles definitely had his lust redirected. 

“But to answer your question, how it starts seems pretty normal I get hungry, so I search for people with overabundant energy. Specifically, energy that is focused on wanton desires, I either manipulate the pheromones around me or seduce someone by touching them. When I manipulate pheromones, it’s an unconscious thing I do, I don’t know how to control it. But I do have to exert effort into the touch manipulation so I don’t usually since I’m always running low on energy. As far as us kissing… I don’t know if you know this Derek, but half the time you smell like sex and just you radiate energy, it’s honestly fucking delicious,” Stiles explained fully. Probably giving details that Lydia didn’t want to know, but he knew both of them were completely enthralled with the information given to them. Eventually, they would all have to go to Deaton, Stiles knew that Scott would want to figure out a way for Stiles to not have to have sex with anyone (werewolves/other supernatural kinds included). 

“So what’s that wall of stuff?” Derek asked lamely. The alpha was flushed ear to chest from Stiles’ explanation of why their kissing worked so well for him. Derek wasn’t embarrassed he did what he did, he knew it had to be done (and definitely enjoyed the process). The werewolf was more embarrassed that Lydia was sitting on that broken futon smirking up a storm of smugness because Derek and Stiles finally were “together” in one capacity or another. The werewolf really wanted to pull attention away from himself, and back onto Stiles and his crazed apartment. 

“I’m trying to figure out how to save them. Lydia, did you get me their medical files?” Stiles asked looking at the wall of insanity. It wasn’t worth explaining what each red, yellow, and green yarn strand meant. The succubus was just missing one final piece to his puzzle, and it was in Lydia’s hand. The banshee held out a flash drive and Stiles scrambled to his feet to grab it and shove it in his computer that was on the bed next to Derek. He plopped down sitting shoulder to shoulder with the older man, pulling up the files.

“I’ve been looking at the symptoms they’ve been talking about on the news, and I got Melissa to tell me a little bit about their conditions. Their medical files will tell me if they have a hormonal imbalance, and if they do, I know how to fix it.”

If he was right in his thought process, that meant he knew a cure, and that would be three people not added to his newly expanded list of dead, with the added bonus of the possibility that Scott might actually not let the hunters kill him. Derek looked over his shoulder, looking at the results Stiles was gazing over, not understanding a single number or abbreviation, but it was clear by Stiles’ enlarged smile that he knew exactly what he was looking at, and it was the best news. 

“So how do we cure them?” Lydia asked, knowing the look Stiles was giving his computer.

“Give them a dopamine antagonist drug, they give it to people that take medications for Parkinson's or people who have bipolar disorder. It prevents more dopamine from being made, and unlike those with chronic illnesses, these people should be able to not take it once their levels are normal,” Stiles explained shutting his computer, smiling a bit calmer now. 

“I need to text Melissa if that solves the problem… Then I’ll… I’ll tell the pack,” Stiles nodded.

“Well, I’m glad that got figured out. I’ll look into this as well, make sure the science is good on it, and try to find any alternatives there might be,” Lydia smiled and pulled the flash drive out of Stiles computer without hesitation. “I’m going to need these files. I’ll see you later Stiles. I have a ride home, so let me know if you need anything,” she hummed and kissed the brunette’s head before leaving the dirty apartment. She would really have to dry-clean her clothes a couple of times to make sure there weren’t any bed bugs (she assumed there were bed bugs based on the state of the entire apartment building). 

Stiles watched her go, mouth open ready to catch flies because of her affection. He slowly breathed out and set his computer to the side. He shifted his body and looked over Derek with a small smile, his eyes slowly raking over the man’s large muscular body. Did the werewolf really not have any baggy clothes? Everything fit him like they were three sizes too small and it was difficult to not stare and drool. Derek took in Stiles’ lust-filled gaze and scent, trying to control himself knowing the other had no control or the pheromones that enveloped them. The werewolf’s eyes fell half-lidded and he accidentally breathed in the heavy air, Derek’s hand moved from holding himself up on the bed to gently touching the young man’s cheek, his thumb rubbing Stiles’ wet lips. 

The succubus leaned into the large warm hand, shutting his eyes, a soft whine falling out of his lips. Stiles pulled the werewolf’s thumb into his mouth, biting down gently. Derek growled at the teeth on the sensitive pad of his thumb, he pulled his hand away from Stiles’ mouth and grabbed him by his sweatshirt pushing him back on the bed, kneeling over the other. Stiles groaned as he was manhandled and shivered in excitement, or maybe from the breeze that wafted through the window across his now exposed, toned chest. Derek’s hands were pushing the sweatshirt up and over Stiles’ head, letting it tangle around his wrists, not wanting the other to be able to put any more influence over this situation. The succubus’ eyes flashed green and with a lick of his lips and a small groan, he decidedly wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. Derek’s hands landed on either side of Stiles’ head, grinding down into him, the pheromones caused his wolf to growl with need. His face contorted in the horrific wrinkled face of a werewolf, normally blunt teeth sharp and wanting to bite down on soft skin. Derek’s teeth brushed the other’s tilted neck, the show of submission begged for the wolf to take the other, but before he bit Stiles, the other struggled underneath him, trying to push him off. Derek snapped out of his beta shift and darted off the bed, putting distance between him and Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked panting. He gripped his own shirt to ground himself.

Stiles shut his eyes, breathing through his open, wet mouth, arms tangled in his sweatshirt, blocking Derek’s view of his muscular chest that had filled out a lot more since the wolf saw him last. “Yea, I just-. You literally let me take some of your energy yesterday. I don’t know how much you can actually let me take and maybe you should leave. You’re overwhelming,” Stiles rambled softly. He kept his eyes shut, trying to calm every part of his body and ignore Derek’s very alert one.

“Why don’t I take you to your dad’s so you can get your Jeep?” Derek asked after a few moments of them just trying to breathe the air without smelling each other. 

Stiles groaned and nodded his head slowly, “Yea, that’s probably a good idea. Just let me change. I don’t want to be in these clothes, they smell too much like you now,” Stiles murmured and stood up, “If you could face the wall or something?”

Derek looked at him dumbly and huffed in annoyance as he faced the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps flexed to keep himself out of trouble. “I literally was about to see you naked, what does it matter? You’ve seen me naked.”

“Well some of us aren’t super comfortable in our bodies, and some of us aren’t built like a shit brick house,” Stiles huffed as he rummaged around his closet. Soon enough Stiles was dressed in red jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black hoodie. “Okay, we should go now,” Stiles told him as he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. 

 

Stiles arrived at his father’s house, looking around at the mess that had been made while Stiles was gone. It was a reflection of the same behavior his father exhibited when Stiles’ mother died. Luckily for him, his dad wasn’t home yet, so Stiles worked on cleaning the house. It was his fault that his dad had been symptomatic like this, that he’d been in a state of depression. So, after getting everything clean and dinner in the oven, he made his way to his father’s home office, rummaging through some of the boxes in the room that had all of his mother’s belongings, pictures, and documents. He was hoping to find some evidence of his mother’s family history because he doubted his father was his link to the supernatural. Stiles also had a feeling that his mother’s frontotemporal dementia was caused by starvation as well as possibly another component that Stiles couldn’t figure out (if he was even right about his mother being a succubus). 

Stiles had littered his father’s office with small pieces of evidence he had found in the form of pictures and journals. Under it all, he found pill bottles with no labels, and pill bottles with pet prescriptions, both of which had pills still inside of them. This might have been exactly what he was looking for and that would mean making a trip to Deaton, something he really didn’t want to do. He had been so immersed in boxing up the evidence he needed to further understand himself and his mother, that he didn’t hear the door open or his father who stood in the office doorway to watch Stiles quietly. Soon the man cleared his throat and laughed when Stiles jump in surprise. The young man looked up at his father from the floor and smiled nervously at him, he finished packing everything up and slowly stood, wringing his hands nervously. 

“Find anything good?” Noah asked his son, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“I think so,” He murmured and hugged his dad back with a deep sigh. He was glad this man was his father, Stiles knew he should put more trust in him, but the brunette really never wanted to put his dad in danger. When they finally ended their reunion, Stiles picked up the box to follow his dad out of the office, setting it by the front door. “I have dinner started… I figured you wanted to talk about everything, and I have some apologies to dish out,” Stiles said walking into the kitchen where his dad was pouring a stiff drink.

“That,” Noah paused, he had to take Stiles down to the station, but it could wait. “That sounds good Stiles. Thanks for cleaning up, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yea, but it’s my fault it got like this, that you got like this. I was trying to protect you-”

“I’ve already told you this once son, no matter what happens, no matter what you do or what evidence I have to destroy, I’m here for you Stiles,” Noah reprimanded gently. He watched son pulled out a glass tray of lasagna out of the oven and begin plating it. Stiles had really filled out in the three months he hadn’t seen the young man, he was a bit taller, muscular, and he seemed more confident and smoother in his movements. He wondered what had caused such a quick change in his previously lanky and spaztic son.

Stiles sighed out slowly and nodded, turning around to set the plates down on the table, taking his own seat. “You did, but it’s hard to explain that I killed people by having sex with them. You would have laughed at me,” Stiles sighed. He sat at the small kitchen table and took a large bite of food before continuing. “I didn’t know anything, just that you were looking for something and working with everyone to figure out what it was. I didn’t even know what I was, that was-. It was hard dad. Hearing you contemplate out loud about asking Chris to hunt me down.”

“Stiles, I didn’t know it was you-.” 

“Exactly, and I didn’t want anyone to know until I figured out what was going on with me, and how to fix the mess I had made. I just didn’t expect to end up in the hospital before I could figure it all out,” Stiles muttered between bites. He kept his gaze lowered, not wanting to see his father’s reaction to all of this. 

“So, what did you figure out?” Noah asked softly. He started to eat the food his son had made for him. It was Claudia’s recipe and it was something that hadn’t been made since Claudia died, Stiles must have seen the recipe in his rummaging and made it without thinking. 

“Well, I’m a succubus, not an incubus, there are some translation issues and I know mom was a succubus. Whatever those pills were that I found, I think they had to do with how she got frontotemporal dementia,” Stiles started, leaning back in his seat. “I know how to heal the people I made sick, but I can’t bring back the two that I killed.”

Noah sat and ate his thoughts and his food. He really needed to re-evaluate his relationship with Claudia, figure out what he had missed in their entire relationship that Stiles had figured out in just a few hours of looking through old boxes. “Alright, so, taking the pills your mom took isn’t going to help or curb the urges because they will kill you. You can’t just keep making people sick, what are you going to do?” Noah asked, he really didn’t want to know the grimey details of everything Stiles had to do in order to live, he could infer perfectly fine.

“I’ll have to feed off of other supernatural people. Their healing abilities alone prevent the neurologic issue those normal people are experiencing. Plus some of them are like nuclear energy reactors and have so much stored up energy it’s all untapped I don’t even need to try hard,” Stiles explained, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

Noah nodded and went back to eating, pleased with Stiles’ answers. He understood why Stiles did what he did. The young man really didn’t see any other option than to finish high school under the radar and research everything that he was so he could protect everyone including himself. Something that Noah wouldn’t have been able to help with or even do for Stiles. Stiles followed his dad and worked on his own plate of food sitting and enjoying the peaceful silence between them both. Noah was going to ask him about what happened the night he was attacked, but maybe if Stiles’ cure worked, the man’s erratic behavior would change, and the charges against Stiles would be dropped. So, Noah, against better judgment, let Stiles leave without mention of his arrest. 

 

As the brunette drove he caught wind of a familiar scent flowing through his open windows. Stiles tilted his head, eyes flashing green at the smell of the wolf’s need for companionship, a scent that fluctuated between wanton desire and that pure chemo signature of basic affection. It was so strong Stiles drove a bit faster, moving towards the scent unable to help himself. The succubus, slowly pulled over to the curb, his jeep moving at the same pace as the young werewolf’s walk. The brunette leaned over the passenger seat and rolled the window down all the way so he could get the wolf’s attention. Stiles smiled a toothy grin at the tall, lanky, curly-headed blond werewolf. The other looked over and stared at Stiles in shock for a moment before frowning, no one had seen Stiles in three months, and all of a sudden there he was trying to talk to Isaac. Stiles could feel the other had put defenses up at the suspicious behavior. 

“Hey Isaac, do you need a ride home?” Stiles asked, stopping when the other stopped.

“Is that really you? Are you possessed again? You smell different,” Isaac said, unsure about going with Stiles anywhere. He had seen and smelled Stiles when under the possession of the nogitsune, he was not about to get into that mess again and be manipulated. 

“Yea Lahey, it’s me,” Stiles huffed rolling his eyes, “Not possessed, just-. I mean you can smell me, so you know how I’m feeling.” The succubus gave the werewolf a quick wink, leaning over to open the passenger side of his Jeep. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride?” Stiles’ plump lips moved into a smirk, pheromones flowing freely, trying to bring the werewolf in.

Isaac breathed in the air around the Jeep slowly, his pupils dilated and a barely visible ring of gold flashing around the large pupils. The werewolf could feel the pull to the other man and took a step back shaking his head. This was what the pack had been told to look out for, someone trying to seduce them with smell alone, but Stiles was human. The brunette definitely didn’t smell possessed, his body didn’t smell of rot from the inside out. It was clear, however, that Stiles was trying to seduce him, and it was definitely working. Isaac hadn’t been with anyone since Allison broke it off, and he was always awkward when it came to flirting. Isaac looked back at the other nervously. He saw the glowing green eyes, but at this point didn’t care what was going on with Stiles, he just wanted what Stiles was offering, and slipped into the Jeep.

“So where do you live now?” Stiles asked with a smirk. He was feeling triumphant in pulling his prey successfully.

“Derek’s loft still, he’s never there though. He’s been rebuilding his family home since he bought it back from the county,” Isaac shared quietly, trying to keep himself together.

“Good. We don’t need him in our business,” Stiles smirked. He shifted gears and drove his jeep faster. The succubus heard Isaac groan and shift uncomfortably in his seat, it just fed into Stiles’ need more. 

Once parked at the loft, Stiles watched Isaac move quickly, leaving Stiles behind in the Jeep. The brunette laughed getting out of his truck and made his way up to where Derek’s loft was. He was giving Isaac time to get ready, probably clean what needed to be cleaned or maybe settle himself down enough to think over this bad idea. The young brunette finally made it up to the loft, rolling open the metal door and slipped through quietly, listening to the curly-headed blond panicking upstairs. The young werewolf was muttering about Scott and Derek and how they would be able to smell Stiles on him, Isaac in Stiles, and Stiles was almost enjoying hearing the other’s turmoil while the wolf betrayed himself completely in scent. The succubus finally made his way up the spiral staircase, down the hall, and knocked on Isaac’s bedroom door.

The door whipped open to golden eyes staring down at Stiles, a hand reached out, grabbed Stiles by his sweatshirt and pulled him into a rough kiss, full of teeth and fangs. Stiles groaned happily and kissed him back, biting at the wolf’s lips and tongue, making sure to kick the door closed behind them. The brunette really didn’t need a sourwolf coming in and bothering them. Stiles was lifted up by his hips and tossed onto the bed, he could feel a low rumble coming from the werewolf and watched in awe as the man began taking off his clothes. The succubus’ brain kicked into gear and he began removing his clothes quickly, a bit embarrassed it was taking him this long. He was working on his pants when Isaac grabbed the hem and tugged them off for him, tossing them away. Stiles laughed softly and reached for Isaac, pulling him down onto the bed to finally get the attention he wanted.

Isaac wrapped a hand behind Stiles’ head and pulled him into a slow kiss. The other hand traveled down Stiles’ chest, gently rubbing over a nipple and slipped his fingers into the red boxer briefs, teasing the hairs that led to Stiles’ hard member. Stiles moaned happily, arching under the delicate hand, wanting more friction. He breathed in deeply, taking Isaac’s lustful energy through their kiss and groaned louder, his hips bucked up, trying to get Isaac to finally touch him. Isaac couldn’t help but want to tease the other. It was easy and Stiles was so desperate for him that all he could do was tease the succubus. To hear the pleasured moans and give everything he could to Stiles once the other was desperate enough. Stiles growled in annoyance and flipped their positions, pushing Isaac down and straddled him, slowly rocking his hips against Isaac’s. 

“Since when can you overpower a werewolf?” Isaac gasped, his teeth returning to normal, but eyes still glowing with pleasure.

“Since I was 18, now I swear to god if you keep teasing me, this is going to end a lot quicker than you want it to,” Stiles warned him. Isaac huffed out and nodded his head dumbly, mouth open to take in the scents, waiting for Stiles to continue.

Stiles was glad the other had become fully naked it made things easier for him. He got up off of the bed, peeled off his boxer briefs and made his way to his discarded pants pulling out a few items he needed. Stiles hopped back onto the bed and sat back on top of Isaac’s lower stomach. He rocked his ass back against the young werewolf’s hard member panting and moaning softly. The succubus could feel the other’s ever-growing lust and need for release. Stiles shifted his hips so he was sitting on Isaac’s thighs to make their members rub against each other, “Stroke us,” Stiles commanded. Isaac was eager to help the succubus and gripped their members together, slowly stroking them in unison. Unable to help himself, he bucked up into his own hand, the friction giving only a little bit of release. The succubus worked on himself, by putting lube on his fingers and prepped his hole for the long cock. Once Stiles felt open enough he grabbed the other object, a condom, and opened it until he felt a large, warm hand on his own stopping him. Stiles looked up at the werewolf panting out softly, swallowing loudly.

“Can’t get STD’s. Don’t worry about it,” Isaac purred, grabbing the condom and tossing it.

“Right, that makes this so much easier,” the succubus muttered. He shifted his hips until he was in position. The brunette pressed his hands on Isaac’s chest to slowly seat himself on the wolf. But Issac had another idea. The wolf gripping his hips and pushed him down roughly, pushing in quickly, causing Stiles to cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The brunette kept his hips still and fully seated on the cock. Eyes glowed green glaring into glowing gold. The other had been too rough, Stiles would have to wait a few seconds to heal before continuing. 

“So,” Isaac panted, whining at the fact he wasn’t allowed to move yet. “Glowing green eyes huh?” 

“Scott warned you about me, you didn’t listen, now enjoy,” Stiles huffed at him and rolled his eyes.

Stiles rolled his hips getting a feel for the other inside of him. The succubus bit down on his lower lip feeling Isaac’s pleasure filling him. The brunette rocked his hips until he began slowly moving up and down on the hard shaft. Stiles scraped his fingers down Isaac’s chest moving faster arching and moaning out as he felt himself filling with energy. Isaac growled lowly, feeling Stiles taking something from him, but what Stiles left every time he took was crashing waves of euphoria flowing through him. The werewolf bucked into the succubus, holding his hips in a tight grip, nails elongated and dug into Stiles’ delicate skin, spilling blood over their bodies. Neither creature cared as they rocked their bodies together, energy flowing between them. 

Isaac ran his hands up Stiles’ chest, bucking up into the succubus, he could feel his orgasm coming. The constant waves of euphoria had pushed him to the edge, he felt like he had to beg Stiles, get his permission to finally get his release. When the young werewolf saw Stiles smile down on him, tongue falling out of his sinful mouth to lick his fat lips, Isaac gave in completely. The wolf came inside of the succubus. The werewolf gave his essence to the other, his hands falling down Stiles’ chest slowly to rest on his thighs. Stiles moaned happily at the feeling of the other giving himself over inside and continued to ride the wolf’s member until he came as well with a high pitched whine (that Stiles really hoped was never mentioned because how embarrassing). 

Stiles sat with Isaac deep inside of him for a long moment, panting out, laughing happily at finally feeling full, a feeling no human had provided since his first full moon. Only when his own euphoria wore off did he pull off of Isaac. He bent over Isaac giving him a gentle, but grateful, kiss, cupping the other’s face gently. The werewolf kissed him back lazily, hands gently running up and down Stiles’ sides. Isaac had stopped shifting and was just relaxing under the last wave of euphoria his body gave him before the healing began to kick in. 

“Why would Scott think this was bad?” Isaac laughed softly against Stiles’ lips. 

Stiles fell off of Isaac to lay against the other man’s side, shutting his eyes, lips pressed into the wolf’s shoulder. “Because I didn’t know that I should be fucking werewolves instead of humans. This definitely changes things,” Stiles muttered. He ran his hand up and down Isaac’s chest slowly moving his own semen around Isaac’s body until they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments/kudos/subs.
> 
> Comments give me motivation and life. If you have ideas/requests throw them out there. <3


	4. (sToP tHAt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag  
> Credit for this chapter's bj goes to: annatheginger
> 
> I literally didn't post because of this stupid blow job scene. Sorry kids. She does great porno writing dick work so I made her write this for me. <3

Chapter 4: (sToP tHAt)

Stiles woke up the next day, his leg and arm spread across Isaac’s body, who was just basking in the sunlight that spilled in from the skylight, running his hands through Stiles’ hair. They looked up at each other and then away quickly. Stiles coughed softly and sat up looking down at the young werewolf, sucking on his bottom lip. 

“I should probably go, right?” 

“Yea, Derek’s coming over soon, and Peter’s already here,” Isaac whispered avoiding eye contact.   
Stiles paused before getting up to look back at Isaac, the other looked nervous, smelled nervous and was fidgeting with the blanket. The brunette shifted his weight around until he was straddling Isaac and cupped his face gently. Isaac was forced to look at the succubus and sucked in air, worried that Stiles wouldn’t have any control over himself and have a go again with the werewolf with someone in earshot. Instead, Stiles bent down, pulling Isaac’s face up and gave him a soft and chaste kiss. 

“I hope you don’t regret last night because Derek is going to be mad. He’ll just be mad at me. I don’t regret last night, thank you for letting me eat you,” Stiles teased and gave him another kiss before he got out of bed and back into his clothes from yesterday. 

Isaac was left a bit shocked from Stiles’ gentleness, it hadn’t been expected at all from a creature he barely understood and person he used to find completely obnoxious. Stiles made his way downstairs, saw Peter, but tried to ignore him and sneak out before he heard any snide remarks. But, Stiles was never that lucky, he felt a hand on his shoulder and was spun around and pushed up against a concrete support beam, with a snarling werewolf in his face, and a thick hand around his neck. The blue eyes and sharp teeth stared him down and Stiles, even with having had this done to him over and over again for the past almost four years, he never got used to the sheer terror he felt when Peter did this to him. 

“C-Can I help you?” Stiles whimpered softly, hands clawing at the hand that restricted his breathing.

“Just holding you until Derek gets here,” Peter growled, slamming his fist into the concrete above his head. 

“Uh… Why?”

“So he can smell you and finally stop pining after you,” Peter snapped at him.

“Like he doesn’t already know what I did,” Stiles huffed and gripped the wolf’s arm. “He knows what I am, and what I have to do. Don’t make me make you get a boner for me, that’ll leave a scar in your memory.” 

“Stop talking bullshit, I know they keep saying you’re some dumb sex monster, but it’s all bullshit for you to just be a slut.”

Stiles laughed, a snort coming out, he was honestly surprised to smell disgust on the wolf. The man was a real piece of shit and had done a lot of disgusting things to all sorts of people and creatures. Stiles didn’t feel bad at all about what he was about to do, it was a shame he would heal if Stiles decided to take anything physically from him, because it would be worth seeing him die. The succubus sighed raggedly, shifting against the hand and reached up to gently touched the arm around his neck. He glanced up to where Isaac was looking down from the hallway balcony unsure what to do with the murderous and vindictive omega and the pinned succubus. Stiles focused his energy onto the arm he was holding and sighed out as he focused on pulsing his own lust into the much older man. He smelled the other’s disgust grow as well as his lust and Stiles panted out at the effort and affecting himself with the work it took. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Derek growled as he closed the sliding metal door of his penthouse loft apartment. 

There were an abundance of scents that assaulted his senses that he definitely had questions about, but seeing Peter trying to choke Stiles out, while Stiles was trying to use his only ability to get himself out of the predicament was his most pressing matter. Peter dropped his hand from Stiles’ neck and backed up, his face still in beta shift, growling at Stiles continuously. Stiles gripped his own neck and quickly moved away from Peter, towards the door, where he accidentally ran into Derek’s hard body, preventing him from leaving the loft. Derek looked down at the young succubus with questioning eyes, waiting for one of the pair to answer him. When they didn’t Derek looked up to Isaac who had been about to retreat to his room but stopped, knowing his Alpha was looking at him for answers. 

“Stiles was leaving and Peter attacked him, saying he wanted you to smell Stiles and get over him,” Isaac blurted like the good beta he was. 

“You keep pining over this stupid kid and here he is sleeping with one of your pack, keeping Isaac’s fucking cum inside of him,” Peter snapped growling at Stiles and Derek. 

“That doesn’t give you the right to pretend like you care about me and call him a slur.”

“What gives him the right to walk around your home smelling like someone else?” Peter growled back moving towards them.

“He smells like my pack,” Derek said calmly. 

The scent had been explained, and it didn’t bother him. Yes, he wanted to mark the younger man first, but Stiles clearly had his reasons for not letting Derek help him with what he needed. The other didn’t smell sick anymore and he looked far healthier than he had since turning eighteen, Derek really couldn’t complain if Isaac, one of his own, had helped Stiles get there. Peter’s scent was distressing, he clearly didn’t trust Stiles, and was confused by Derek’s reaction. It wasn’t what the sociopath wanted out of the Alpha. The succubus was gripping Derek’s arm tightly that had, at some point, wrapped around the front of his chest to keep Stiles against his body. Derek kept his hold until he felt Peter calm down and Stiles release the breath he had been anxiously holding. It was clear that Stiles could smell everything at a heightened ability now, which made the succubus’ anxiety that much worse. Derek slowly dropped his arm from Stiles’ chest and turned the other around, holding his lean shoulder in his large hand. 

“Are you okay? Does your throat hurt?” 

Stiles smiled up at Derek like the man created sunshine and nodded his head slowly, “Yes, I’m fine. I know you had a meeting with Peter, so… maybe we can talk later?” Stiles asked softly.

Derek really didn’t want to let him leave, he wanted to clean Stiles out and scent him properly, but with Peter in the loft, it was best that Stiles did leave. It was clear they were going to have some compatibility issues until Peter understood what Stiles was, and why Derek just didn’t seem to care that Isaac had laid a claim on the succubus. Derek would have to understand why he didn’t care, but that was an issue for another day and another moment. He gently cupped the back of Stiles’ head, looking into the other’s eyes and waited for permission, he couldn’t let Stiles leave without laying claim to him. The wolf smelled the release of pheromones and watched as Stiles’ body relaxed into the large hands of the black-haired man. Stiles pressed onto his toes and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, they pulled each other into a soft languid and lazy kiss. Derek ignored the disgusted noise from Peter, and continued, his hands traveling down Stiles’ back, stopping just at the swell of his ass. The younger man dropped back down to the balls of his feet and ended the kiss.

“I should really go before he decides to murder us both,” Stiles murmured and pulled away, leaving a lot quicker than he had before. 

“So, were you going to tell me some information about what we are hunting?” Peter asked, his face shifted back to normal, with a calm demeanor. 

“I think you just saw the thing that we were hunting.”

“There’s no way, that kid, is the sex demon or whatever you want to call it.”

Derek rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the wooden desk in the middle of the apartment. “Yes, Stiles is the succubus we’ve been after. We figured out how he can feed without hurting anyone, so the hunt is off.”

“Tell that to Chris Argent, he’s been waiting for us to track down the beast so he can dispose of it,” Peter said with a smirk. 

“I’m aware, Lydia told me that Allison has been working on trying to figure out a chemical that will halt all reactions to Stiles and in return, hurt Stiles if he tries anything so the pack can protect itself.”

“Is she working with Deaton then? Talia a long time ago told me that the Veterinarian used to take care of a Succubus and feed her these pills that actually ended up slowly killing her.” 

“Allison and Scott are both working closely with Deaton, trying to figure out a way to not kill “the succubus” but stop “it” from feeding. I don’t think any of the three know that Deaton’s pills killed Stiles’ mother. I don’t even know if Stiles knows,” Derek sighed weakly, he leaned back on the desk table feeling exhausted already from a fight that would probably happen soon.

“Do you think Deaton knew?”

“Yes, and I think Stiles’ mother was so concerned with her husband and child, that Deaton and her ignored it and settled for her to lose her mind.”

 

Stiles took a few moments in his car to calm down from the vast array of emotions and scents that flooded his system the moment he left Isaac’s room. Peter had, had a visceral reaction to Stiles and his abilities, it was a similar experience to the man that had put him in the hospital. Stiles was learning about his abilities, that it was possible straight men, or men who were already in a state of hate or disgust, would not be easy to influence. It drained a lot out of him to try to defend himself against the werewolf the only way he knew how. Stiles would have to call upon someone to refill again. 

The succubus began driving home, he would have to clean up and contact his work to let them know why he had been missing for a week. He would also have to eventually see Deaton, but Stiles knew he should probably bring Derek with him for everyone’s protection. Stiles had to confront the man about aiding in his mother’s death. He had been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the blue and red lights behind his car, or the siren beeping at him. Stiles flushed and pulled over, this was it. He knew he was going to jail, the man had pursued the charges after Melissa had cured him. To be honest, the succubus was surprised he had been found, he had kept himself very under the radar, even with his blue Jeep. 

Stiles rolled his window down with effort, pulled out the information they normally asked for, despite every deputy knowing exactly whose son he was. The brunette stared at his side mirror, waiting to see which Deputy would step out. He was almost surprised to see Parish, but it made sense, only a hellhound would be able to find any supernatural at any moment in Beacon Hills. Stiles slouched in his seat and undid his seatbelt, waiting for the other to step up to his window. He tried to keep his hormones in check as well, not wanting to bother the other, or have the hellhound think he was trying to persuade him into not arresting.

“Stiles… I think you know why I’m here. Why don’t you step out of the vehicle? The towing company is going to swing by and pick her up soon,” Parish told him, hand on his handcuffs, not bothering with any of the weapons around his waist.

Stiles nodded and compiled. The succubus jumped down from his Jeep, turned off the car and gave Parrish the keys. “So… What are the charges… Officer?” Stiles asked. Stiles tried to be plain in his question, but the anxiety running through him made his control lax and his need blatant. 

The fire from the hound spread in Parrish’s eyes, looking Stiles up and down with lust and the desire to overpower a being that was trying to get away with a crime. Before Stiles could try to control his pheromones he felt a large hand grab his arm and tug him around to the other side of the Jeep, pushing him to his knees in front. The two supernaturals were settled in a place where no one would see them if a car were to drive down the road. Stiles looked around before looking up at the man, mouth open in a surprised ‘o’, the dip of his cupid’s bow interrupting the perfect shape. 

“Am I gonna get out of this if I suck your dick?” Stiles finally asked when it looked like Parrish was getting impatient with waiting.

“No, but I might not cuff you if you do,” Parrish teased. He knew Stiles wanted this, Stiles knew Parrish knew. 

Stiles scoffed and shook his head at Parrish. He chewed on the inside of his cheek trying to decide if he was going to give the hellhound what he wanted. The succubus looked up into his fiery eyes and released a shaky breath. Stiles was so hungry, holding Peter’s physical will to fight had been hard because the other resisted the succubus’ pheromones so well. The encounter had used a lot of his energy up that he had finally gotten without someone dying. Really, the choice wasn’t difficult. Presented with the option to suck cock or not suck cock, well, when Stiles really thought about it, he drooled a bit. With a determined nod, Stiles wetted his lips and locked eyes with the Deputy, gaze darkened by lust and mischief. 

“How could I refuse such a generous offer?”

Parrish smirked in turn, reaching forward to card his fingers through the brunette’s hair. Stiles could feel the hellhound’s fingers flex against his scalp, tugging lightly, feeling the pheromones affecting his will entirely, giving into what Stiles was begging for. “Well?” he urged, the hellhound’s voice deepened an octave. With another pull of the succubus’ hair, harder than before, Parrish added, “What are you waiting for?”

Without gracing the Deputy with a response, Stiles reached his hands out and skillfully unbuckled the officer’s utility belt and pants. The weight of the belt and gravity dropped his pants to his knees. The succubi’s fingernails gripped the hellhound’s hips tight and Stiles revelled in the way the hellhound’s breath caught in his throat as he teased around the waistband of his boxers. Through the fabric, Stiles could tell Parrish was already half-hard, tense with want as the succubus toyed with the sensitive skin and happy trail with his tongue. If he wasn’t starving so, Stiles might have drawn out the tease, played with the Deputy until he was shaking with desire. Perhaps he would’ve begged the hound for his cock. But Stiles felt that hunger shaking him, consuming him like fire in his gut, and his mouth watered at the thought of tasting the hellhound’s skin.

The succubus finally dragged his fingers down, dipping into the boxers and pulled them down to follow the pants. One hand landed on the Deputy’s ass while the other gripped his shaft. Stiles licked it slowly from base to tip, enjoying the deep groan it pulled from Parrish’s throat. Parting his lips, the succubus spared a heavy-lidded glance up at the Deputy as he took the dick into his mouth, sinuously and slow, loving the way his hips bucked involuntarily at the feeling. Stiles took the cock all the way to the back of his throat, swallowing around the length and drawing another groan from Parrish.

Before the hellhound could get accustomed to the heat of his mouth, Stiles was bobbing his head up and down at a delicious and aggressive pace, pulling his cock in deeply with every nod of his head. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth, dripping down the corner of his lips as he slowed, teasing, hollowing his cheeks and increasing the pressure around the Deputy’s member.

“Fuck…” he heard Parrish hiss out, those fingers in Stiles’ hair tightening almost to the point of pain and pulling his head flush against his hips, fucking into his throat. Stiles hummed, pleased, sending vibrations down the weight of the cock against his tongue and earning himself a full-body shudder from the hellhound.  
Parrish only tugged harder, breath coming out in harsh pants now, pressing Stiles’ nose into the coarse hairs around his cock. Breathing in harshly through his nose, Stiles swallowed again, feeling the hellhound’s dick slide impossibly deeper down his throat. Before he could do anything else, Parrish was fucking into his mouth at a bruising pace, using Stiles’ hair as leverage with each punishing thrust. 

The sounds coming from Parrish’s throat were obscene, increasing in volume with every push of his hips, complementing the wet noises coming from between Stiles’ lips. Reaching around the hellhound’s back, Stiles dug his fingernails deep into the flesh of Parrish’s ass, pressing hard enough to break the skin and draw blood. Parrish groaned at the sensation, body shuddering as the pace of his thrusts became more and more erratic. He was close to the edge, dangerously so, voice unbound by pleasure.

Using his grip on the Deputy’s ass, the incubus pulled the hellhound’s hips into his mouth, sliding his dick as deep down his throat as possible. Stiles held him in place with his significant strength even as the Parrish’s hips bucked against their newest vice. Only a heartbeat later, Parrish groaned with relief, his dick twitching against Stiles’ tongue as he came down his throat. With a pleased hum, Stiles swallowed each spurt of his cum, reveling in the bitter taste and liquid warmth.

Stiles didn’t release the Deputy from his mouth until he was shuddering and pressing his hands against Stiles’ shoulders, oversensitive and spent. The succubus felt himself filling with pleasure, his hunger satiated for a moment (he would probably have to lure Parrish into his cell to get more later). Eventually, Stiles did pull his mouth off, letting the cock fall as he stood up himself. The brunette leaned against his baby and gave the other half-lidded eyes as he smacked his lips at the new taste, watching the Deputy fix his uniform. Once Parrish felt his uniform was in decent shape he pinned Stiles up against the car, cupping the younger man’s erection, rubbing it slowly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just ask me to fuck you,” He whispered in Stiles’ ear, pressing his full body into Stiles, gun and batton digging into Stiles’ hips.

“I’m surprised you didn’t cuff me and fuck me in the back of the cruiser.”

“Don’t tempt me,” He growled and forced the succubus to turn around, slamming Stiles into the car. Parrish held the other’s arms behind his back with one hand, grabbing his cuffs with the other.

“I thought you weren’t going to cuff me?”

“I said I might not, but all that talk of me fucking you pissed me off.”

Stiles huffed as his wrists were cuffed tightly and he was escorted roughly to the back of the cruiser. The only times he had ever even been in the back of one, was when his dad picked him and Scott up from being in the wrong places at the wrong times. Stiles tried to get as comfortable as possible, leaning against the door, hips sideways so he wasn’t leaning back on his arms. “You know, this would be way sexier if you weren’t arresting me for sucking a dude off that hate crimed me.”


	5. (BraHiEm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag
> 
> I'm so fucking sorry. I decided to apply to grad school after the last chapter so all of my effort went into my applications. I am on vacation from work and actually able to write for you <3
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter. There's nothing sexy in it, but it's drama out of my asshole :)

Chapter 5: (BraHiEm)

The cell was damp, cold, the bed metal. Luckily his father had snuck him in a few prison blankets and a flat pillow. Stiles spent a lot of him time pacing during processing, and the rest of his time lying on the cold metal bed. He was growing anxious and antsy, and his hunger was growing again. It had been two days now since he had sex, and a day since he sucked Jordan Parrish off. There was a camera pointed at him, so the only way he’d be able to get what he wanted was if he could convince his dad to let Jordan interrogate him, and somehow get the interaction not filmed. Stiles stood quickly when the door to the room his cell was in, opened, pulled out of his depraved thoughts because his father walked in. The Sheriff was dragging a chair behind him, purposefully placed it a distance from the cell bars from where Stiles was standing. He released a deep, dispassionate sigh, as he sat down outside of his son’s cell. 

“I thought you always said you’d never let this happen,” Stiles finally breathed after no longer being able to take the silence between them. The young man leaned against the bars with a slump, thin, long fingers gripping the bars with white knuckles. 

“Stiles, you’re only being charged with assault, you’re lucky those two dead people aren’t connected to you.” The man couldn’t look Stiles in the eyes as he spoke, and it was making Stiles’ anxiety spike, he wondered what had happened between his conversation with his father and now.

“You said you would protect me no matter what!” Stiles jabbed, after what happened with Theo, his father had promised him safety, the man truely believing his son wasn’t capable of murder with intent. Things seemed different in this moment, and the answer as to why was not what Stiles had expected. 

“Chris Argent said you did it intentionally.”

Stiles brows furrowed and he sank to sat the floor cross-legged, still gripping the metal bars. “I already explained what happened, and I healed the people that stayed alive. Even the prick that assaulted me and put me behind bars!"

“So you’re not denying it was intentional.”

Stiles tried to calm himself, looking up with glowing green eyes to the camera as he tried to push his anxiety down. Noah would only respond to calm, he had never been good with rambling, to the point when Stiles had tried to come out as bisexual, the man denied him simply because of the way he dressed. “If I did it intentionally why has no one else died in the past month since the man that beat me almost to death?”

“I don’t know Stiles. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on exactly so I can decide if I’m going to destroy video evidence?”

“Dad! I already explained!“ He cried desperately. There was video evidence! Evidence that he had assaulted someone, a moment in time Stiles lost to a hunger he didn’t understand fully.

“You told me barely anything.”

“I told you everything! Wait,” Stiles stood again gripping the bars of the cell his father was keeping him in, bars separating them intentionally. The man actually thought his own son could hurt him. He took a steady breath when a realization dawned on him and he became infuriated. “You told Argent I was the succubus?” Stiles snapped. He gripped the bars harder, he felt outrage, that his dad (probably unintentionally) put him in danger. 

“Stiles. That’s beside the point, tell me what happened with you and that man charging you.”

The young succubus stared his father down, unable to go back to his normal brown honey-colored eyes because of the rage and hunger that was now consuming his being. Stiles pressed his forehead into the cold metal bars trying to cool the rage that was bubbling quickly. He felt humiliation spread across him as the succubi realized the only way to escape the cell, would be to tell his father the story of how he ended up in the hospital. So, Stiles went into the details of starving himself, his reasoning for it, not understanding how to control himself, knowing that he may kill someone if he gave in to the hunger. How Stiles’ body betrayed him anyway and he blacked out. Told his father of his experience of waking up to being beaten, not understanding how he had ended up where he was or who he was with. Stiles felt ashamed, turning his back to his father. At some point, his piano hands had fallen from the bars and tucked themselves under his armpits. Stiles’ jaw was tight as he fought the tears that spilled staring at his cell bed keeping his back to his father, hiding his overwhelming emotions. The succubus hadn’t had a chance to deal with how he felt about the assault, nor about killing people, or about being a succubus and this wasn’t the moment to do it. Too distraught by his weakness Stiles didn’t hear the metal door opening, only reassociating when his father wrapped him in a hug. 

“I’ll destroy the tape, give him a little blackmail about the hate crime he committed… That he was looking to commit. The case will be dropped,” Noah assured. 

“Can I leave then?”

“Stiles, not until this is cleared.”

“Can I make my one phone call?”

“Why?”

“Gonna call a lawyer or something.”

“You’re going to have Derek break you out.”

Stiles gave his father a noncommittal shrug in the tight hug he was fully leaning into, enjoying the comfort his only parent provided. The young man watched his father toy with the idea of messing with Derek, fighting him to keep Stiles inside, but if he was going to release his son eventually, he supposed he could do it now. 

“Stiles, just stay here, Deputy Parrish was the arresting officer so he’s going to have to drop the charges to you officially. That way…” Noah started to stop Stiles from arguing, “It doesn’t look like the Sheriff’s released his son, the charges will be dropped because of the battery charges we’ll threaten him with.” Stiles melted and hugged his father back tighter. Accepting the large squeeze from the young man, Noah finally pulled away, needing to get on to the paperwork and alert Derek to pick up. When he pulled away he locked Stiles back into his cell and stood by the chair again, hand on his gun. He stared at Stiles for another moment, only a small smile resting on his face before he finally left to get back to work. 

Only thirty minutes had passed when Jordan came into the small cell block, Stiles glanced to the camera that had been turned off since his father’s interaction with him. The succubus stood up and leaned into the bars with a coy smile, trying to tease the deputy and rile up the hellhound within. Stiles couldn’t say he wasn’t hungry and whiling to do anything for another snack, he flashed his green eyes before letting them return to his normal hue as he released some pheromones to try to encourage the other to partake in another game.

“Come for seconds?” The young succubus purred.

“The charges are being withdrawn by the reporter in lieu of receiving a counter suite of battery from you. The Sheriff’s office formally drops the charges of sexual assault against you,” Parrish hummed opening the cell door, standing off to the side to let Stiles out. “Your ride is waiting, I don’t think he’d appreciate me having another taste of… you.”

Stiles waltzed out and gripped the man’s left forearm with his right hand tightly, feeling the strong muscles underneath the lax arm. “Thank you for the snack yesterday anyway… And the bed Deputy, maybe I’ll see you around,” Stiles hummed releasing him. The succubus part of him was hoping Derek heard the little exchange to make him jealous and finally take him the way Stiles was desperate for. “I appreciate you doing your job hellhound… “protecting the supernatural”,” Stiles teased a bit more. “I know the way out, don’t wait up.” 

Stiles sashayed out, feeling more confident and more in tune with himself than he had his entire life. He was relaxing in his body, feeling the hunger that he had, letting it settle like any normal non-supernatural hunger, and letting the pheromones adjust his body deliciously. The succubus stole looks and received stiffer bodies as he passed, gliding out of the building. On top of really feeling himself, Stiles’ father still had his back, despite Chris Argent trying to convince Noah that Succubi weren’t innocent. Stiles felt full emotionally. Once out of the office he saw that familiar black Camaro, idling and strode forward faster. 

Stiles sidled up to the driver’s door, leaning in the open window and gave a small smile, quirked up to the side. “Looking for some company?”

“We should go have a conversation with Deaton,” Derek sighed, clearly annoyed with the angry furrow of his dark eyebrows and the flash of Alpha red eyes Stiles received.

Stiles could feel it. The want that inundated the succubi’s senses, and he let it roll through his body to keep a sweet taste while enduring the prospect of a dull topic. The young man moved around the front of the Camaro, slipping into the passenger seat breathing out slowly. The succubus tried to remain calm in light of an impending conversation as well as trying to prevent the manipulation of pheromones his body wanted to release. The brunette tilted his head to look in the backseat, no one was there, and looked to Derek with a small pout. He was so hungry, maybe the young man could convince the wolf to skip the topic for now and feed Stiles. So, the succubus leaned forward a bit, letting his shirt separate from his slim chest, being careful to not touch him or flood him with pheromones. Stiles watched as Derek eyes drifted down his neck and into his shirt where pert nipples were exposed now that his shirt was no longer clinging to his form.

“Stiles, you won’t distract me,” The Alpha murmured, licking his lips slowly. “We can talk about you doing… us doing this, later. We need to confront Deaton, and then the Argents,” Derek said flatly. 

“What are we confronting Deaton about exactly?” Stiles asked, his curiosity always besting him. The young man kept his position, however, tilting his neck, drawing the man’s eyes back up to the junction where his pulse popped. Derek tore his eyes away and gripped the steering wheel staring out the windshield instead. It was clear that Derek knew something that he thought Stiles didn’t know, and was anxious about relaying the information. Which meant he didn’t appreciate Stiles distracting him from something potentially traumatic. The posture of the brunette changed and he sat up again, sitting sideways in the passenger seat still, watching the man.

“Your mother,” Derek finally breathed out when he had Stiles’ actual attention.

“Oh,” the succubus breathed weakly.

Silence fell upon the pair, a rarity for Stiles. The young man shifted in his seat to match Derek’s distant staring out the windshield as an understanding fell between them. Derek knew what happened to his mother, knowing it was Deaton’s fault, completely changed the mood Stiles was in. It was nice that they didn’t have to specify with each other, Stiles wouldn’t have to go through the pain of finding out what actually happened to his mother all over again, and he and Derek didn’t have to create an understanding that Stiles was probably next on Deaton’s list. The most frustrating part of all of this was he had just been cleared of charges, Derek and he should be celebrating, not confronting the druid that purposefully killed his mother. This felt like a bad idea, going into the proverbial Druid’s den to confront the man about a murder, a murder the druid would likely commit again on Stiles. 

“Why are we meeting at Deaton’s if we’re confronting him?” Stiles asked, the man had everything he needed in his office to probably incapacitate both of them. It seemed like the worst idea they could come up with.

“Scott will be there, so we shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

“About that…”

“What?” The dark-haired wolf asked, his car slowing down only minutely. Derek was glaring through the windshield as he drove, waiting for the news Stiles was about to blow.

“I forgot to talk to Scott,” Stiles said flatly, sinking into the leather seat.

“What!” Derek growled loudly. 

“Look, I was on my way after I told my dad and your sad boy Isaac just smelled so sad and good. I was hungry and I had been starving myself for a month at that point.”

“I thought you said our kiss was enough?” Derek growled lower, deeper in his chest. A vibration Stiles could feel throughout his body.

“Definitely not, sorry. I thought you were fine with what Isaac and I did? You smelled him and what he did on me, and still defended and kissed me,” Stiles asked anxiously. Derek was always the most difficult to read. He understood that maybe scent wise Stiles smelling like another one of his pack might be displeasing, but in the moment, it seemed like it had excited the wolf more. Stiles might have to test further based on how this conversation went. 

“I… am. I just figured you would come to me and not the pack. I can’t be mad, it’s your nature, now. Isaac wasn’t hurt. You’re healthy,” the werewolf’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight. Stiles took that as a need for further discussion but at a later time, because it definitely seemed like Stiles had no control, and honestly, Stiles wasn’t sure he had control. That didn’t mean he felt okay hurting Derek, especially since the other was willing to give himself over to Stiles’ needs so willingly.

Stiles sighed quietly and nodded. “You know I,” he stared, but Derek’s car turned off alerting Stiles to their arrival. The succubus sucked in a breath as he stared at Deaton already standing at the back door waiting for them. 

“We’ll talk later Stiles, go ahead of me. I’ll be there in a second, I just need...” Derek trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his seat

“...Okay.”

Deaton’s arms were crossed, radiating contempt Stiles could feel in the car. The succubus stared at the druid, considering his next move. Deaton was the reason his mother was dead. He figured Deaton planned on feeding Stiles the same pills to kill him. And based off of the strong emotions Deaton was emitting, Stiles was about to go into a probably fatal inquisition. The hazel eyes roamed back to Derek, a creature filled with all sorts of smelly emotions that Stiles, at this point, was too anxious to dissect. He grunted as he forced himself out of the sex on wheels and towards the veterinarian’s office. 

Stiles only exchanged glances with the man as he walked into the open door to the back room of the clinic. The examination table was cleaned off and many herbs and tools had been set out. Stiles recognized most of what Deaton had set out from his research when he, himself, was trying to become a druid and the research he did on what had killed his mother. However, Stiles didn’t expect Scott and Chris Argent on either side of the table, looking close to murderous. Stiles backed up, feeling anxiety well up, overpowering his hunger, he could feel the compressive energy in the room. He heard the door lock and his back hit Deaton whose normally gentle hands gripped his toned arms and pushed him forward to the table. 

“So, are you planning on dissecting me now? Or are we going to talk civilly?” Stiles asked nervously, “Because there is a whole lot of misinformation spreading in the news these days, you know? I-” His head was bashed against the table to keep him quiet. Thanks to Chris Argent, whose hand was leaving his hair, he heard Scott quietly protest, but not step in. 

“There’s nothing civil going on here. You’re a murderer,” Chris Argent growled. 

“Just like your mother,” Deaton chided. All while Stiles’ head was spinning from the pain of having been smacked, hard, against metal. 

Stiles felt Scott grab his arms, pull him up the table, flip him so his back was on the metal examination table while Chris was strapping Stiles’ wrists in. Deaton managed to get Stiles’ wildly moving legs and strap them down. The succubus’ focus came back and he yelled for Derek, where was he? Did Derek know Stiles was being kidnapped like this? Did he care? Was Derek okay? Stiles turned his focus to Scott, his old best friend. A friend he had through thick and thin from kindergarten to his mother dying, to Scott becoming a wolf. All Stiles could do was appeal to Scott’s pure nature, his “True Alpha”-ness. 

“It was an accident,” Stiles panted, staring in Scott's brown eyes. 

“Two times is not an accident Stiles,” Scott breathed out looking away from the aching hazel ones. “And it’s not the first time you’ve killed someone.”

Stiles lurched against the leather binds not using his full strength because he felt betrayal. They had gotten passed this, they all had. Or at least, Scott acted like he had. Maybe he and Chris were still bitter about Allison being hospitalized for weeks in a medically induced coma that the Nogitsune had caused. Stiles knew Allison forgave him, he felt her sincerity after the incident. Lydia had forgiven him, not letting Stiles give an apology and Derek… The wolf understood better than anyone else when it came to murder (accidental or otherwise). This moment, this was a shock, it felt planned. Like Deaton had been waiting for Stiles to finally present his supernatural side so that he could rid the world of not only all succubi, but Stiles specifically. Stiles wondered if this would end like Gerard, or if Deaton had misunderstood, and Stiles’ mother never knew an alternative.

“I had been possessed and the other was an accident! You know that! You understood that!” Stiles begged him, feeling his panic rise. 

“I don’t understand anything anymore! You didn’t tell me what you were. Seems like everyone, but me, knows what you are, Stiles,” Scott spat jealously. 

Stiles knew their relationship hadn’t been the same since he had been possessed by the nogitsune. Scott, and Stiles, had experienced a darker side that neither of them thought they would see out of Stiles. And when Stiles had defended himself against Donovan’s assault which resulted in the other landing on a metal bar that killed him. With thanks to Theo, who manipulated Scott into believing none of it was in self-defense. Their relationship had been completely altered. Stiles had explained, Scott had understood and apologized for believing the manipulative werewolf, but their status as best friends never returned. 

“I was going to tell you! I promise, but…”

“But what Stiles?” Scott scoffed.

“Look, I was on my way, and I ran into Isaac and got distracted,” Stiles said honestly and then the rambling started because he was panicked. He was worried the others wouldn’t actually hear what he was saying. “I was starved, after being beaten almost to death. I barely had any energy. Isaac was a willing participant. I swear Scott. I swear I’m not hurting anyone anymore!”

“How can we trust you haven’t gone somewhere else?” Deaton asked, emphasizing the disbelief in the room. Stiles groaned, why did he even babble if no one was even going to pretend to listen to what he had to say. What was the point of trapping him to this metal table if they weren’t going to take anything into consideration. This was definitely a Gerard situation if Stiles had ever seen one, with the added touch of betrayal from a childhood friend.

Stiles struggled against the restraints again releasing a panicked cry again. The succubus went for a last-ditch effort and released a soft and quiet whine to the wolf in the room. “You don’t understand… Just let me explain… Please…” Stiles begged looking at the true Alpha. 

“There’s nothing to explain,” Chris huffed and smacked his hand down on the metal examination table, “You killed two people and landed three others in the hospital.”

“And I cured those three and haven’t hurt anyone since!” Stiles yelled desperately. 

The succubus’ eyes darted up at the men rounding on him, and flashed green. A quiet shock and awe spilled out of the men like they had been waiting for proof of Stiles’ supernatural self. Deaton held up a needle filled with what Stiles could only assume was a liquid form of devil’s weed. Whether Scott knew it or not, they were trying to kill him faster than his mother, euthanize him like a sick cat with cancer. Stiles wondered briefly if Scott had been filled in on Deaton’s murderous past because subtext was not something Scott was strong with. And this whole situation was subtext. Stiles felt his only defense had come into play and Stiles willingly let his instincts take control because he was not about to die in this room like a sick pet. He also wondered what happened to Derek, and he was getting anxious overall for the current situation. It was the only way he would get out of this situation that would inevitably kill him if he just gave up. The young brunette’s posture relaxed and gazed at each man, green glow threatening them with something they didn’t bother understanding. Stiles breathed out slowly as he felt his pheromones release and dissipate, suffocating air around him. 

“You wanted to make this difficult,” Stiles purred, “I’m anxious, Derek is probably hurt, and I don’t have time for you to experiment on me like you did with my mother.”

Scott seemed to be fighting the scent a lot easier than Deaton and Chris. The younger Alpha had been so used to Stiles’ scent develop over the years, and Stiles smelling all sorts of levels of arousal that at this point in their lives he was physically unaffected. Stiles could see the young wolf was in shock by what the pheromones were doing to the two humans, on the other hand, seeing the true power of a succubus. Deaton and Chris, however, Stiles could smell that they were melting under the deep smell of arousal. The succubus wiggled his hips a bit on the table, the smell of arousal from the humans affecting him. Stiles would have to think about the fact that these two men seemed to have an interest in him outside of succubi pheromones at another time (which he would probably end up avoiding them like the plague for the rest of his life). 

Stiles felt the hands of the two men land on various parts of his body and began rubbing his body up and down torturously. He needed to escape, but with the worshipping attention, it was difficult to regain control of the situation. Stiles was starving. With two days having gone by and his body’s knowledge of how full he could be, trying to dismiss the prey he had captured was a challenge. The only one not touching him and pulling at his clothes was Scott, who looked as though he was trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Stiles hoped now that the most volatile people were under his subjugation that Scott might have a chance to actually think things through. 

“Scott,” Stiles started, he knew he’d have to play this right, “Why don’t you uncuff me? Derek brought me here and I haven’t heard him since Deaton locked the door. We sound go check on him.”

“Derek brought you here?”

“Yes, and Chris Argent requested specialty hunters to get rid of me,” Stiles whined out, unintentionally as the men were playing with his chest (his shirt now in shambles thanks to surgical scissors) and kissing his neck. He would have stopped them if he thought they would listen to Scott’s logical mind. Stiles watched Scott sniff the air, searching for a sign of Derek until his face landed on something unpleasant. 

“Smells like blood and wolves bane outside,” Scott growled. He pushed past the men and broke the flimsy handcuffs locking Stiles to the metal surgical table. Stiles darted up and ran to the front door, he threw his body against it with all the strength he possessed and busted it open with the door barely hanging on one hinge. He was efficient in stopping his hormonal control over the middle-aged men as he rushed to Derek’s side. The older wolf was leaning up against his car holding his side where the bullet had entered him and already looked pale. Scott reached Derek only a moment later with medical tools to work on the bullet lodged close to his brachial artery. Scott and Stiles managed to move Derek into the back of his Camaro, so Scott could work with at least some sort of shield while Stiles sniffed out who had shot Derek.

The succubus looked up, eyes flashing and remaining green as he scanned the road and the forest. His nose also picked up on the scents in the air, but the smell of wolfsbane and rotting flesh was overwhelming anything else Stiles’ untrained senses might have noticed. He was still a young succubus with no one to train with and barely any control of any faculty. When the brunette gave up on his sense of smell and tried to focus on scanning the area, he heard Scott growling loudly from the car. Stiles watched the other leave Derek’s body, shutting the car door already wolfed out and ready to fight whoever shot at Stiles with a silencer. Stiles stared at the car, if bullets were flying and Stiles’ untrained ears wouldn’t be able to pick up on it he knew he had to do the cowardly thing because he and the others were defenseless. These hunters were after Stiles, so he would take the fight away with him, and hope he found refuge before the hunters caught him. So he started running towards the forest on the other side of the road from the veterinary clinic. The succubus had run with the packs long enough to know the terrain. 

“Stiles!” Scott yelled with a piercing growl. The succubus didn’t stop, he almost made it across the street when a bullet ripped through his leg with a spray of blood and Stiles released a scream of pain as he fell to the asphalt. The young wolf ran towards him when he saw him fall and hunters rush Stiles. Scotts full Alpha-wolf came out and he was on all fours, tackling one with a gun. Stiles tried to move as fast as he could, but he was stuck scooting on the road, unable to find the grip to stand. Another gunshot went off and Scott slumped to the ground bleeding from his stomach. At this point, the succubus managed to get his good foot under him and pushed back away from the crowding hunters. He slammed his back into a hard mass and felt a prick in his neck, causing his body to slump and hazel eyes return. He was held up by two hunters and dragged to a van that had pulled up during the scuffle, Stiles’ eyes glazing over and closing. The last thing Stiles saw or heard was more gunshots, and they were coming from Chris who was running out of the back of the veterinary office.


	6. Chapter 6: (ShIt SuCks)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag
> 
> Thank you all for still reading even though I'm shitty at posting because of life. 
> 
> Please send me your thoughts Ideas, opinions, wants, needs... If you need a hug?   
> I'd love things you'd like to see between characters, just let me know.
> 
> This chapter is spicy in all sorts of waysssssss

Chapter 6: (ShIt SuCks)

Stiles woke up with a low groan, shifting uncomfortably, his wrists shackled to the small bed he was cramped up on. Wincing, he looked up at the light and looked down to see himself still in his pants, but no shoes. His pants were dry now, covered in blood. Stiles’ fingers went to the hole where the bullet had entered through his jeans and saw healed skin with stitches falling out. The hunters must have patched him up, and his new supernatural abilities healed him once the bullet was removed. Which would explain why he felt like he hadn’t eaten in a month. The lights were too bright and his body felt too weak, a feeling he hadn’t felt since his rebirth as a succubus. Stiles heard someone walk into the too-bright room and turned his head towards them glaring through the photosensitivity. 

“An incubus in the flesh,” a blond-haired man purred, pleased with only himself. Stiles pinged him as the man that shot him.

“Succubus,” Stiles corrected, his eyes squinting through the bright lights. He sniffed the air and coughed on the smell, unable to decipher the scent.

“Shut up,” another growled, “How stupid are you? Did no one teach you what parts you have and what you are?” This was a man that had helped drag him to the van, he was a brunette with a scar across his lips. Stiles decided he was the dumbest one of the bunch, the brute that every hunter group tried to have.

“Did no one translate Latin for you, dumb fuck?” Stiles snapped back, unable to help his mouth. The succubus was suddenly hit with a bamboo cane across his chest, leaving an angry red mark across his skin, and a small cry of pain came out of Stiles’ mouth. He looked at the sniper and sneered, “Is that a fucking bamboo cane? You think you’re some sort of shitty dom?”

“Shut up you stupid cunt!” The brute screamed at him again. At least the man was catching on to what kind of lay Stiles was.

“Asshole gets something right,” Stiles snorted, and was hit with the cane a few more times for it., The sniper and the brute enjoyed the screams of pain that left Stiles and the small strips of blood that became exposed from the impact.

“What are you two doing?” A feminine voice growled, he watched her grab the cane and smack them with it to get them away from Stiles, “You’re supposed to be pulling blood and injecting it with Datura stramonium.” She was a woman. Stiles managed to get a look at her, no heels, combat boots, and almost rivaled the men in height. She barely had any skin showing, but her muscles were defined within her clothes. Stiles had to admit he was attracted, although at this point, there were very few people he wasn’t attracted to. In another time Stiles might have clumsily asked her out, but now was a time to fight or charm his way out (the former more possible than the latter). 

“It keeps moving!” The Brute protested.

“And saying stupid shit,” the sniper snorted, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“It shouldn’t be talking to you, why isn’t the diffuser working?” The woman huffed, “You should have made sure it wasn’t conscious before coming in here to draw blood.”

“Hello? It, can hear you. It. Has a name. It. Is Stiles. And Its dad is a sheriff who knows all about your shenanigans!”

“Your Daddy won’t be able to find you,” the sniper sneered.

“We’ll give you back when we’re done with you, don’t worry,” The Head hunter, the woman, hummed.

“Now, is that dead or alive? Because I think the Sheriff and the wolf pack will have a problem with that,” Stiles asked with the sweetest smile he could muster. 

“Preferably alive, and with your transformation reversed,” She replied coolly.

“What?”

“We are experimenting on you soul-sucking demons to try and reverse the transformation, but we haven’t found someone so close to their 18th birthday to work on yet,” She purred and moved to sit next to him, gently running her hands across the cane marks. “Won’t this be so much better? You won’t have to kill anyone anymore. You can have normal relationships without fear you will kill them? You don’t have to be like your mother, who almost killed your father multiple times and ended up letting a druid kill her.”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t know anything.”

“I think I do Stiles. I know that you were in that clinic about to be euthanized by a druid who is sworn to protect you.”

“He didn’t understand.”

“He understood plenty.”

“I know how to not kill anyone!” Stiles protested finally. As much as he had been against becoming a werewolf, now that he knew power, and the safety that came with it, he didn’t want to let it go.

“Fucking werewolves isn’t sustaining. You’ll end up fucking the wrong one and getting mauled,” She sighed, she was close to overselling her worry. If Stiles wasn’t weary of people to begin with, he might have believed she genuinely wanted to help. 

“I already have a pack I’m connected to. I’ll be fine,” Stiles huffed dispassionately. 

The woman stood up again, hands on her hips as she looked over his body. “You are really a seductive specimen, it’s too bad you would kill me.”

“Unless you fuck me with your dick, your pussy is only going to give you a head cold, which is easily curable with a dopamine shot,” the succubus spat out, green eyes flashing aggressively at her. 

“I don’t understand Stiles. Do you really think you’re a succubus?” 

“My mom was, the last woman I fucked didn’t die rapidly, just was put in a coma because she ended up crazy. She couldn’t have fucked me because she didn’t have a dick,” Stiles spelled out slowly, “My mother was a succubus, it would make sense that I would be the same. If my father was an incubus, I would have been too. If my mother had a penis and had been an incubus, I would have been too. It’s simple genetics lady!” 

“You must have hit your head pretty hard on that fall.”

“Are all hunters this stupid and dense? A werewolf got it for christ sakes,” Stiles huffed out and shut his eyes to take calming breaths. “Look, lady, whatever experiments you do to me, won’t take, and I may not last because I’m starving.”

“What would you have me do then Mr. Stilinski?”

“Feed me? If your men do it, they’ll die and probably feel some hit to their masculinity. You will be fine for a while. Or… take me to a pack member from the Hale-McCall pack,” Stiles smiled and sat up as best as he could, finding himself crowded at the head of the bed. 

“What's to prevent me from just experimenting and discarding your dead body?” She purred, enjoying the combat of minds. It was clear to Stiles she never met someone she thought of as an intellectual equal. Stiles could play to her ego and want to “cure” a species existence. 

“Like you said, I’m the first that you’ve found that is barely two months from their presentation. How often do succubi have children that survive and develop the same abilities? You also know I’ve carried a demon, so I’m stronger willed than most people in general,” Stiles reiterated, pretending she knew all these things about Stiles. He really was trying his best to either get to his pack or bring one of them to him so he could escape these hunters. 

She sat on the bed next to Stiles, delicate fingers with blunt nails traveled up his destroyed pants, diving into the hole left from a bullet to touch him where his leg had completely healed. The woman hummed as she went over his soft skin, watching the young man shiver under her predatory touch. Stiles sighed at the touch, reading her aura better than he had been able to before. 

“You’re really testing the waters right now,” he breathed, controlling his urge to seduce her. 

“Possibly, but you’re not trying to suck my soul, so maybe we can make a deal. I’ll get you a pack member-“

“Male… male pack member,” Stiles supplied her, if this was going to work, he was going to need full strength. 

“A male pack member,” she specified,”and in return, you’ll do and take everything I ask.”

“Deal,” Stiles smiled at her, “Can I know your name?” 

“Tatiana,” the woman gave Stiles’ leg a squeeze before finally leaving him alone. 

 

\---

 

It was a long while before Stiles heard anything from any of the hunters again. He sat in bed for a while staring at the door until the lights on both sides turned off. He ended up laying down and falling asleep. Stiles was hungry and exhausted because of how hungry he was. When he woke it was the door slamming open and a large body being thrown into the room he was staying in. The brute of a guard came over to Stiles and unshackled him from the bed. 

“Enjoy the meal,” he grunted and walked out. Stiles was left with a body on the floor, the smell familiar as well as the aura, but the other smelled of blood and alcohol from them cleaning the wolf up no doubt. 

Stiles shifted on the bed, letting his feet touch the cold concrete ground for the first time, a shiver running up and down his body. He stood and quietly walked over to the wolf, sniffing the air to get a better sense of which pack member they brought. The large form really didn’t narrow it down for Stiles, and with the dark, he couldn’t tell all too well. He knew it wasn’t Boyd because he would have smelled Erica all over him. Stiles sidled up next to the body breathing shallowly and squatted down next to him to roll him on his back. Stiles squinted at his face for a long while before darting back from the man on the floor. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he cried softly to himself. He ran to the door and banged on it, “Are you trying to get me fucking killed!” He screamed, “Hey! Tatiana! Scarface! Anyone there? Your lab rat is going to literally be murdered!”

“Shut the fuck up,” a growl sounded from behind Stiles. The succubus jumped and pressed himself against the door harder, even though Peter hadn’t moved an inch from the floor. 

Stiles did as he was told, he was definitely afraid of Peter. He had seen all sorts of sides of Peter, and most of them involved maiming Stiles one way or another. Stiles pressed his back into the door to watch Peter’s movements as the murderous wolf got up from the floor. The man walked over to Stiles quickly and pressed both hands to either side of his head and tilted his head as they faced each other at the same height. Stiles was trying to make himself smaller, but the omega crowded his space. Stiles took in the other’s scent deep into his nostrils. The man smelled of hatred as always with a lingering pain and a budding of lust, which was always interesting to discover the more intuned with the scent Stiles became. 

“Why don’t we move away from the door and have a discussion,” Peter growled. 

“Only if you promise to not maim?” The man ignored the comment and grabbed Stiles’ arm dragging him away from the door and threw him on the bed. Stiles released a shocked cry and tried to sit up, but The wolf crowded him on the bed hovering over the younger man, keeping him pinned. 

“Am I supposed to be your meal?” 

“Well not… not necessarily you. I didn’t think they’d bring-“

“Am I your meal?” He growled, interrupting the rambling. 

“Yes,” Stiles gulped. 

“Why?” 

“Well,” Stiles breathed, keeping his voice low enough that hopefully, the hunters couldn’t eavesdrop. “They want to experiment on me and I convinced them their experiments would go bad if I wasn’t kept well fed. So I ask them to bring me to my pack and instead… she brought you here. Which… also works, I was planning on escaping if that was the case.”

“You asked them to bring you a snack, so you could plan an escape with muscle?” Peter asked with a sly smirk.

“Yes,” the succubus breathed out weakly.

“So you’re not hungry at all?”

“I think… I think you’re missing the point here Peter.”

“I get it, you want to escape, but you also thought you could sneak in a meal without me knowing.”

At that, Stiles scoffed. “I’m not too concerned about your opinion of me and who I… eat.”

“Only because you somehow have Derek wrapped around your fucking finger. I still don’t understand how he’s okay with it. If I were your alpha and you were messing around with me like that. I’d gut you.”

“I’m fully aware you psychopath. Luckily, you’re not my Alpha, and no one is my Alpha. I’m not a damn were-creature that can bond like that. Now, if you’re going to be here, either help me out or just sit in the corner and watch them torture me,” Stiles snapped back at him. Sometimes it was easy to forget he did have some power and that Peter wasn’t a threat to the brunette anymore. 

Peter gripped his throat suddenly, squeezing it gently, smirking as he looked Stiles over. He jammed his leg between Stiles’ and began rubbing his muscular thigh on Stiles’ clothed crotch. Stiles released a small whimper and his eyes went green from the flood of lust spilling off of the wolf. He gripped the wrist on his throat, his other hand gripping Peter’s bicep. The man’s thumb moved along his throat and tilted his head up, taking in his scent, moving along his throat, and Stiles’ formed jaw to press the tip of his nose in the succubus’ upturned one. 

“I’m not going to fuck you.” Stiles released a high whine of frustration. “I want to, god I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I tried to turn you but accidentally bit Scott instead… But what do you think Derek is going to do?” Stiles stopped struggling and whining under Peter when Derek was mentioned. His glowing green eyes turned away from Peter, releasing a sad sigh. The man was right, Derek wouldn’t be able to deal with Stiles like this if he and Peter just followed instinct. 

“I’m starving. Last time I felt this hungry I blacked out and ended up sucking dick in an alleyway,” Stiles panted, trying to not move against the leg still pressing into him. The thumb that was now playing with his lips had Stiles darting his tongue out to lick. There was some scent in the cell that was preventing Stiles from seducing the man, but he’d have an easier time feeding if he could just get Peter on board.

“Then we better get you out sooner than later.”

“Peter...” Stiles whined more and shifted his hips against the leg, rocking them. He was desperate, Derek would understand, he would have to. Stiles was sure Derek didn’t want Stiles’ death be preventable. 

“Stiles… You’d risk what you have with Derek just to have me fuck you?” Peter growled.

Stiles shivered and reached his hands up to grip Peter’s shoulder’s tightly shaking with need. “He… Would understand… Wouldn’t want me to die like this,” Stiles panted and released a guttural groan when Peter removed his leg from between the succubus' legs. Stiles was now trapped between the older man's legs, so he took this moment to turn around to his stomach and grind his ass into the other’s crotch. “Please Peter... “

“You’re going to tell him, when we escape.”

“Of course,” Stiles sobbed grinding back again. 

Stiles watched Peter’s eyes roam across his bare back and growl at the sight of such submissive posturing. Stiles knew what he was doing, he could smell what others liked, and when he was this desperate, he knew how to get what he wanted without having to use his abilities of influence. Peter gripped his hips and flipped Stiles on his side and quickly tugged his pants and boxers off his body in a swift movement. Stiles shifted to lay back on his chest again, but Peter held him down on his side with a stern growl, so the succubus remained shivering in excitement. 

Peter made a move to undo his pants and spread Peter’s ass and Stiles quickly gripped the other’s wrist. “You can’t just… You can’t just enter me, we’re going to need some help,” Stiles ramabled and begged quickly.

Peter growled and landed a smack on his ass, clearly annoyed, but he understood what Stiles needed. He watched the omega wet his fingers and spit in his hand and spread Stiles’ cheeks again and pushed a finger into Stiles with ease. The wolf watched the succubus’ body shiver and relax immediately, giving into the wolf. Stiles could feel the pleasure radiating off of the man and pushed back on his finger. Soon, the man was pushing in a second, spitting on his fingers buried in Stiles’ ass to push in a third. 

“You think that’s enough for my cock?” 

“Yes, please.”

“Yes please what?” 

Stiles didn’t expect that and his mouth flapped open, eyes going back to their honey brown with the shock of what Peter wanted him to figure out. “Oh… Sir?” He breathed.

“No,” he pulled out a finger and Stiles gasped at the loss, frowning. 

Stiles’ mouth flapped open and closed searching, “D-Daddy?” he whispered weakly. That earned him a smack on his ass and fingers abandoning his body. Peter leaned down to bite on the nipple exposed, causing Stiles to cry out. 

“Disgusting.”

“You liked it,” Stiles whispered, smelling the spike of lust. 

“Call me what I should be called.” 

Stiles gasped at another hit to his ass and felt tears prick his eyes from the pain and need he was experiencing. “Alpha,” He finally said out, in any other situation Stiles probably would have laughed at him. The man would never get back to what he wanted so desperately, something he never deserved to have to begin with when Stiles had first met him. With that single word uttered Peter spit on his hands and stroked his member, waiting for Stiles to put it all together. 

“Alpha… Please fuck me,” the succubus whispered, a whine falling off at the end. 

Peter spread Stiles’ ass and pushed into him, getting himself balls deep, ignoring Stiles protest of pain. The succubus could realize quickly the psychopath had no interest in Stiles’ pleasure, despite how attracted Peter was to him, Peter was only chasing what he wanted. Stiles reached and gripped Peter’s arm that was now holding Stiles’ leg on his broad muscular shoulder. The succubus looked up at Peter with desperate brown eyes, begging Peter to go easier on him, but the other slowly pulled out of Stiles and snapped his hips back into him causing a scream to leave Stiles. 

“Your pussy is so tight, it’s like you’ve never been fucked before,” Peter growled, snapping his hips again. This time his cock slammed into Stiles’ prostate as he fully sheathed himself in Stiles again. 

“A-Alpha… You’re… You’re so rough,” Stiles gasped out, his fingers digging into Peter’s forearms. The succubus’ free hand went down to rub his own cock to hopefully end the torture of pain and pleasure mixing so well. Peter smacked Stiles’ hand away and pushed it back up, finding one of the restraints left on the bed and cuffed Stiles far too busy hand. 

“You don’t deserve something gentle, wolf slut,” Peter growled continuing his brutal pace. 

Stiles was occasionally getting a hit to his favorite spot, but he was too weak to stop Peter, and his hunger was being fed despite the rough treatment. Stiles’ fingernails dug further into Peter, panting and moaning softly under the wolf. The succubus gave in, eyes faintly glowing as he was pounded by a wolf with no cares, the metal bed scraping against the floor with each rough thrust. The succubus cried and moaned now, moving on his cock now that he was smoothly pulling the wolf’s life force. Peter, he knew, would have the hardest time out of anyone in the pack, recovering, but the pure hate and lust ravaged the brunette, filled him. 

The succubus wasn’t sure how long Peter kept up his brutal pace, or how much damage the other might be doing to his body (because he was just healing during the process). Soon he felt the warm heat of Peter’s cum filling him, his own semi still present while the older man was slipping out, dick soft. Stiles watched Peter sit back on his heels letting the young man’s leg fall. The brunette shifted to his back breathing shallowly, legs resting on either side of the omega. He couldn’t help the smirk that fell on his face as he thought back to what Peter wanted to be called, and a small giggle spilled out of him.

“What are you laughing at,” Peter growled at him.

Stiles sat up and shifted his hips closer, “I mean… The daddy thing was interesting, especially because I dated your daughter. But, Alpha? Really Peter? That’s pathetic.” Stiles knew he was probably goading the other, the man was a psychopath. He was probably about to get himself killed, but he was sure Peter had more self-preservation than that. The succubus heard the wolf growl and laughed a bit more.

“I got more pleasure from timid Isaac than whatever you thought you just did, by the way. You really are pathetic.”

“You’re mean like this,” Peter replied casually, a smile falling on his face. He gripped Stiles’ hair and pulled him forward so their faces were too close for the brunette’s comfort.

“You’re the psychopath that tried to fuck me dry and then didn’t even try to hit my prostate,” Stiles breathed against him, glowing green mingling with his brown.

“I’m a psychopath? And you’re not? Stiles, I think you’ve killed more people than me. Blaming being possessed isn’t going to work on me.”

“Really… Pathetic,” Stiles sighed and pouted at Peter and felt his hair pulled more and push his head down towards Peter’s rising cock. The succubus laughed more, hands resting on Peter’s thighs. “More for you, less for me…” Stiles sighed out and gently stroked Peter before decisively squeezing his cock to the point Peter released Stiles’ head and tried to peel off Stiles’ hand.

“You cunt, get your hand off of me!”

“You fed me… Did you forget? Oh… maybe you don’t know about all the new abilities I’ve finally gotten,” Stiles breathed as he moved his face back up to Peter’s. 

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

“We’re going to get out of here. I’m going to explain to Derek what happened. How nice you were to provide a service. But… If you fuck this up, you kill someone else, or I find out you just took someone again without thinking about them. I’ll tell Derek exactly how you treated me,” He gave another gentle squeeze before releasing him. “Comprende?” Peter’s erection had grown more, which only caused Stiles to shake his head and laugh more. He got up off of the bed and dressed in his boxers and pants, breathing heavily as he stared at the door.

“You really are different.” 

“Trauma changes a person,” Stiles muttered listening to the house. It was quiet, he couldn’t smell past the devil’s weed they were pumping into the room. He was lucky it was diluted enough to not affect any other part of him but his ability to smell and manipulate pheromones. There were definitely footsteps above him, he wasn’t sure the number of people, or what time of day it was. 

“It’s sexy.”

“Would you like to help me get out of here? Or are you just going to lay there with your cock out?” Stiles snapped at him. “I have no interest in touching you ever again, so…”

“Yea… There’s one person upstairs, one asleep, the woman is gone. It’s nighttime. We should be completely safe to escape,” Peter grumbled and put his member back inside his pants. The wolf stood next to Stiles, staring at the door with him, it was solid metal, which they found out when Stiles had thrown his weight on it. “You think your new superior strength could break that door?”

“I’d rather save my energy to snap the neck of the brute who hit me with a bamboo cane.”


	7. (Ugh The FUck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/3/2020  
> Beta: Sunwarmed_Ash_tree_and_the_dreaming_Stag
> 
> She did such a great job making sure this chapter had some extra emotion and making Stiles seem less like a sociopath than I had originally written (thank god).

“Going to make me do all the heavy lifting?” Peter growled.

“If you refuse to let someone cum, yea.”

Peter grunted softly and went to the door handle and tugged it open like it was already unlocked, except one of the hinges broke off as it swung to the side. Peter stepped back and held an arm out, “Ladies first,” He hummed looking over Stiles’ body like he owned it. Stiles let out a small smile, green flashing in his eyes as a response to the lust flowing off of Peter, and walked out of the room looking around for anything he could use to defend himself. Peter walked out after him, half shifted and ready to fight, the other was clearly looking to make some blood spray, and Stiles was willing to let that happen. These people had not only hurt Derek and Scott but were willing to torture more people that were like Stiles. Whether or not they deserved it didn’t matter to the brunette.

“Why don’t you go ahead? Leave the blond man for me,” Stiles breathed softly as he looked at a table that had all sorts of ingredients and concoctions on it. 

“What is all that stuff?” Peter asked, his speech having an undercurrent of a growl.

“Don’t worry about it, go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” Stiles said seriously, looking at the older man, waiting for him to clamor up the stairs to the main floor of the house, ripping the door open. Stiles listened to the yells, gunshots, and too loud growl tearing through the fragile cabin. The succubus grabbed what he could and shoved it in the medical bag on the ground next to the table. He found his shoes and shirt scattered in another corner and dressed quickly before more damage was done to the house before he was able to escape.

Once he arrived on the main floor, he saw the carnage. It took everything in him to keep the bile down. The woman was torn open, obviously dead, and the largest man was missing some pieces of his body. Stiles tore his eyes away, not willing to try and find the rest of the man. He hadn’t expected Peter to let his hatred manifest in such violent ways, but the older omega did surprise him often. The succubus’ eyes finally landed on the couch in the room where the blond was sitting, arms held above his head, hands held in one of Peter’s behind his head. The man wasn’t struggling and was just shaking, fear spilling out of him, which was probably the most putrid smell Stiles had been exposed to. He wondered how the Beacon Hills wolf pack dealt with Stiles smelling like this constantly. 

“What are you going to do?” The blond asked, trying to act as though he wasn’t filled with fear. 

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking about killing you. What do you think Peter?”

“If he lives, he can go get more hunters. If I kill him, we can leave quicker, but I don’t mind if you have your way with him.”

Stiles hummed softly as he straddled the man’s lap. He gently caressed the sniper’s face, looking at and smelling him. Stiles glanced up to Peter, a dangerous man who was definitely a bad influence on Stiles’ current demeanor. The succubus had a choice at this moment, decide if he was what everyone said he was, or if he was better than that. The young man wouldn’t get in trouble for the other two hunter’s brutal murder, but it would be obvious how this human would die if Stiles was the one to do it. One last look at Peter and Stiles moved off of him with a rough sigh. 

“Just leave him alone, he can bring more hunters if he wants, it doesn’t matter. We should get home,” Stiles sighed and looked around the living grabbing car keys and a phone and breaking into it to find his location. “We’re in Washington, we have a long drive back Peter… Let’s go.”

Stiles walked out the front door, leaving it open so he could watch Peter, make sure he didn’t kill the hunter. The succubus reached his arm out to unlock the car, watching Peter unhand the man and leave the cabin. The wolf took the keys from Stiles’ outstretched hand and went to the driver's seat. Stiles followed behind after a long look at the blond hunter who was still sitting and just trying to catch his breath. The young brunette ducked his head and went to the van, climbing in and listening as Peter drove back onto the dirt road to get them home.

 

12 hours later

 

“Stiles wake up.” Stiles’ face was pressed on the car door, his drool spilling down his face, and breath heating up the window. At the sound of someone trying to wake him up, he smacked his head on the door as he jerked awake. The succubus groaned softly and held his head frowning at Peter who was just laughing at him. “Seems like you haven’t gotten too smooth since your new abilities.” 

Stiles frowned at him and looked around realizing they were at the old Hale house that was under construction. “Why are we here?” He murmured softly. 

“Derek’s here right now. I’m leaving once I drop you off.”

“Just Derek?”

“Yea, we made a deal.”

“Right… fuck.”

“Fuck is right.”

Stiles sighed softly, rubbing his face to pull himself together and prepare for a potentially deadly conversation. When he looked up again, Derek was out of the house, hands on his hips waiting for Stiles to leave the car. The brunette breathed in and out one last time before he slipped out of the car and shuffled his way over to the Alpha. Stiles looked up at him with a shy look, shaking nervously under his dark gaze. It was the middle of the night, the forest around them loud with nocturnal animals foraging, but the space between them was electric and suffocating. 

“Are you okay?” Derek finally asked, hands coming to rest on Stiles’ biceps. 

“Y-yea… I need to talk to you about something,” the brunette murmured nervously. 

“Sounded like it. Lets get inside, I have a room set up for nights when I work too much,” Derek said softly and shifted so they were side by side and wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. They walked inside together and Derek led the younger man upstairs to a rebuilt bedroom, the rest of the destroyed house cut off with tarp. Derek sat Stiles on the bed and looked around for a towel and clean clothes. “We can talk about you and my uncle after you get clean. The bathroom is finished so there’s running water.”

“Right,” Stiles breathed, shame furrowing his brows. He forgot that Derek could smell him thoroughly and it wasn’t like Stiles had a chance to get himself clean of everything that had happened. “How long have I been gone?”

“A few days… But really you need to shower. I’m going to scent you… fix you, but I’d rather do it while you’re clean of what he left on you.” 

“Okay. I’m sorry Derek,” Stiles breathed. 

“Get clean. We’ll talk after.”

Stiles just nodded and quickly moved to the bathroom Derek directed him to. The brunette turned the water on piping hot and slipped inside with a soft sigh. He began scrubbing his body down roughly, staring at himself with almost disgust. He hadn’t had a moment to himself in a long time to actually think about himself, his situation, and what he’s done. Stiles felt horrible for killing people, that would always weigh on him, but he was sure he hurt Derek with his need to be constantly fed, and using Derek’s uncle for that need. Stiles made sure to clean himself out and clean his hair of filth and blood. He continued until the water ran cold and he was practically chased out of the shower. 

Stiles dried himself off and pulled on the clothes Derek leant him. He was surprised the clothing wasn’t too baggy, but he had filled out quite a bit since turning 18 and discovering what he was. He smoothed out the clothes and dried his hair as much as he could before hanging up the towel. Stiles stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, trying to talk himself up so he could be an adult and speak to Derek. There was a knock at the door and the smell of Derek overwhelming his senses suddenly. Pine trees, dirt, and Irish spring shampoo. Stiles opened the door and looked up, dropping his head back a bit too far to look at a man only an inch taller than him. 

“Are you okay?”

“You want an honest answer, Derek?” Stiles breathed up at the wolf. 

“Only.”

“No.”

“Let’s talk about it then?” Derek gently took Stiles’ hand and led him through the dim halls back to the bedroom, sitting with Stiles on the bed. They shifted around each other until they were both resting against the headboard, looking away from each other. 

“I’m sorry about not… making sure we were clear on our relationship. Navigating what I am, my hunger… has been difficult.”

“I’m not upset that you went to Isaac, I’m not even really bothered you tried to get out of getting arrested. We should have talked, I agree. I know, my pack will take care of you. Except…”

“Peter…”

“He’s a psychopath Stiles. Why would you? Why?”

Stiles shook his head. “After getting shot and my head bashed around… I ended up in a room that was pumping the scent of devil’s weed? It… it was like I was as hungry as the night you found me.”

“Oh, god, Stiles… I’m-“

“Stop… just. I knew I couldn’t escape by myself with no strength. I asked them to bring me to the pack. I tried to get to you. Instead, they went out and brought whoever they could find.”

“And of course Peter didn’t think of getting you both out without a trade.”

“No. Stop.” Stiles gripped Derek’s thigh tightly and turned to him. “It wasn’t like that. He got upset at me and I seduced him. Peter tried to stop me, I think, if I gave him the chance, he would have just gotten us out without us… without me feeding.”

“You..? Did you use your abilities?”

“No, the devil’s weed essential oil stopped me from being able to do it. Just the traditional way. If it makes you feel any better… He was horrible?” 

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“He might also be in love with me now?”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yea… I… I’m sorry. I didn’t kill any of the hunters, I made Peter leave one of them alive… he was-“

“Brutal I’m sure.”

“It was disgusting. I’m sorry Derek, I’m so sorry. I’m disgusting, I should have just let them have me,” Stiles rambling continued unaware that he was being pulled into Derek’s hard chest. Stiles gripped the Alpha’s shirt as he ended up crying into his chest, the wolf scenting him and comforting him. Derek let the younger man fall asleep in his arms like that, holding each other close throughout the night. 

 

Stiles woke up to the gentle fingers running through his hair and a warm body surrounding him. The brunette looked up at Derek who gave him a tired smile stopping what he was doing, dropping his hand down to his back to rub and squeeze gently. Stiles shifted and nosed Derek’s jaw, his fingers gripping Derek’s shirt gently. He took in the wolf’s scent again, shutting his eyes for a long moment. 

“Derek… did you sleep at all?” Stiles asked pulling away to sit up. 

“I did, you had some nightmares in your sleep, so I have been trying to help you calm down.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he sighed weakly, deflating a bit in disappointment in himself. Stiles felt like he kept hurting Derek, it wasn’t close to what he wanted. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s the same amount of sleep I get most nights. Let's go get food and talk more okay?”

“That sounds nice. Did you get all the scenting done that you needed to?” Stiles teased. 

“Mmm, no, but once our talk is over, I’ll make sure to ravage you,” Derek growled lowly, pushing Stiles flat on his back so he was hovering over the succubus. 

Stiles shivered underneath the wolf and watched as Derek smirked at the sight and gave a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips. From that Derek got up and pulled on a shirt and left the room, leaving Stiles by himself. The brunette followed after the dark-haired man after a few moments of catching his breath. He slipped his hands into the sweat pockets he was borrowing. Stiles made his way down to the foyer and looked over the wolf in his own t-shirt and sweatpants, clothing barely able to make the stretch over thick muscles. Once his eyes managed to get away from Derek’s thighs and back up to the man’s face, he flushed in embarrassment. Stiles didn’t understand where his shyness was coming from, sex wasn’t anything new to him now. And he had already kissed Derek. e had plenty of sex, sexually tense interactions with others, and had already kissed Derek. But maybe the electricity flowing between them was just overwhelming and would be until they finally did the deed. 

“Ready?”

“Yea, let’s go.” Stiles nodded following behind the Alpha to his car. 

The succubus slid into the leather interior with a pleased hum and ran his fingers across everything like he always did. It was as close as he was going to get to touching Derek where he wanted. He tried to ignore the pleased look coming from Derek as the car roared to life, vibrating under them. Stiles relaxed and let his eyes watch the scenery pass by, giving himself a little calm before the impending storm. Whether that was Peter getting upset that Derek wouldn’t drop Stiles, or the hunter bringing more hunters to them. They had been organized, they had them researched and were quick to bring everyone down. Either way, a battle would occur and Stiles would still be useless. The young man knew he had been stinking up the car with anxiety when a large hand fell on his thigh and squeezed him out of his head. 

“You’re thinking too loud, and we’re here.”

“Sorry… I was just-“

“Save it for the pancakes,” Derek smiled and pulled his hand away and got out of the car. 

Stiles followed slower, looking around the parking lot nervously. He had been given no time to think about the fact that he had been kidnapped, nor the time to breath after. Sure Stiles had cried in the big Alpha’s arms, but he had felt pretty self-deprecating and hadn’t actually had time to think or speak about what happened. When Derek suddenly grabbed his arm to make him focus Stiles screamed out and tried to back away, but the grip was stronger than he had expected and only fell further into the wolf. Derek received the brunt of Stiles trying to shove him away until the other tried himself out and just face-planted into his hard chest. Stiles was panting and gripping the other’s shirt until he was finally calm again. The succubus sucked in a breath and looked up at Derek, flushed with embarrassment. The wolf just cupped his face and wiped away a stray tear. 

“You ready?” Derek whispered gently. 

“Yea… sorry.”

“Don’t. You don’t need to apologize for everything or anything. Let's get you some real food, and have a conversation.” 

Stiles just nodded in response and let the other lead him inside. They went to a table in the corner of the diner, Stiles appreciated the illusion of privacy. Stiles rested his head on the table, looking out the window letting Derek order for him since he never craved food anymore, forgetting what he even liked. Stiles hummed softly when a warm hand gently stroked through his hair, giving Stiles a moment to settle into this environment before starting their conversation. It would be hard on both of them, and Stiles appreciated the apprehension and attempt to keep the environment calm. The brunette nuzzled into the hand shifting up and leaning onto it as he looked in the Alpha’s eyes. Maybe he was part of his pack because he could smell the calm radiating off of Derek and it was working for Stiles. 

“You feeling better?”

“No, but… You’re helping.”

Derek nodded and gently pulled his hand away to just hold Stiles’ on the table. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what Deaton had planned and I’m sorry I got put down so easily.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m… I have the world to apologize for.”

“Stiles, don’t let them make you feel bad. My first act before I had even presented as a werewolf, was kill someone.”

“You did her a mercy Derek, she was suffering-“

“And you were possessed. And then you had to defend yourself. And then you didn’t even KNOW that you had changed. You can’t keep blaming yourself for accidents and circumstances completely out of your control. Scott feels horrible for letting that trap go as far as it did. Deaton and Chris are locked up at the Sheriff’s office right now, your dad is pretty pissed. Upset, actually, but… I think that’s a separate conversation.”

Stiles nodded and slouched back in the booth, hand never leaving Derek’s, his other pulling at his hair. “Derek…” he started and stopped. Stiles wasn’t sure how to even begin to apologize to Derek if he even should. One make-out session does not make a boyfriend, but they had been playing around each other while Stiles was in high school. The eighteen-year-old was concerned that he was possibly destroying everything they had built up. The trust, companionship, losing a best friend he had gained out of the aftermath of the dread doctors. Stiles would always have Lydia, but their relationship was another type of complex. 

“Would it be easier if I talked? Or do you need to talk about everything right now?” Derek finally cut in, picking up on Stiles’ intense inner musings. 

“Please, go ahead. I don’t think I’ve even had a second to think since my birthday three months ago.”

Derek grimaced a bit but smiled. “So, you disappeared on your birthday, which makes sense now. We were… Are worried about you. I know you’re trying to consider my feelings, but we made out once Stiles… Twice if you want to count you trying to upset Peter the other day. As far as I consider it, everything that has happened thus far has been you just trying to steady yourself. I’m not upset with you for never talking to me about our unspoken, thing. I’m not upset about Isaac, in fact, I’d like to talk about that further, later. I’m not upset about the hellhound, or you seducing your way out of a bad situation. 

Stiles I’m not even upset that you killed two people and almost three others. We never defined what we were and you and I never got to figure out a system for your hunger. With that being said. I get that the only way out, in your mind, was to get fed. You are afraid to know your limits and what limit is death. But, please don’t fuck my uncle again.”

“Ugh, I won’t,” Stiles groaned and watched Derek snort in response. “I am sorry for this mess anyway. I do feel bad about what I’ve done without thinking about others… without thinking about you.”

Derek was about to speak when their food was brought, separating their hands and bringing Stiles’ eyes to real food. The succubus wasn’t sure what solid food would do for him, but he was excited to actually chew something. He had always had an oral fixation, and the lack of chewing his food might be getting to him, now that he was faced with a stack of pancakes and eggs. He grabbed the maple syrup and slathered the whole plate in the sweet brown fluid. The succubus ignored the other’s face of shock and disgust, smiling when Derek finally laughed. Stiles preened up at the Alpha as he cut into his pancakes, the younger man could smell the wolf swelling with pride in providing a meal Stiles was happy with. Stiles didn’t notice the other was watching him eat, clearly curious about how the food would affect him. 

Once Stiles got a few bites in he hummed and spoke, “So what do you want us to be Derek?”

Derek was surprised by the sudden boldness of Stiles. Since he had gotten back from being kidnapped, and really since his change, he had been avoidant in discussing their relationship at all. This wasn’t unusual for them, they had stepped around each other since the first time Derek shoved Stiles against a wall and smelled his lust. They had advanced further than before, having already shared several types of kisses and shared a bed the previous night. All the wolf could do was sigh, because he wasn’t sure what he wanted and he knew Stiles didn’t either, especially since he was a succubus who didn’t know how to control any part of their being. 

“I’d like us to be together… whatever that looks like. If we go back to the way things were or be more…”

“Monogamous?” Stiles clarified clearing his throat. 

“I don’t plan on being with anyone else if I’m with you.”

Stiles hummed and nodded slowly taking a few more bites of food as he thought. “I think I would be perfectly happy like that.”

“That's… surprising.”

Stiles glanced at him and stopped eating to give Derek his undivided attention. “I get that, I haven’t exactly been a model for monogamy but we also hadn’t defined anything-“

“And you realized you didn’t have to go hungry if you fed off of… supernatural creatures.”

“Right,” Stiles hummed and picked up his fork, releasing a big breath of relief. “Are you up to that?”

“Having you eat pieces of my soul forever?” Stiles gave a shy smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t want it any other way, Stiles. Especially if you’re the one sucking the life out of me.”

“Fucking the life out of you.” Derek laughed and finally went to eat his food feeling better about their ability to progress into a real relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the spacing/paragraph separation is weird I was listening to Deadz by Migos and the beat took over me
> 
> As always PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS THOUGHTS CONCERNS IDEAS WHATEVER YOU WANT.
> 
> Please roast me. (but don't cause I'm sensitive) 
> 
> k thanks


	8. Finally and finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. Completely unbeta’d, rough af.

A sigh slid past plump lips shaped in a soft “o”. Heat filled his body, arching off of leather seats, skin peeling off as it was sweat-slicked. A strong hand slipped under, holding him up as lips tortured his nipples. As the wolf escalated, the sighs turned into moans and gasps, arching more. A hand smacked into the glass of the car window as he ground his hips up into the other, pulling a growl from the heavy man above him. The other hand tangled in black hair, pulling and pushing at the same time. Begging for more while simultaneously unable to take the constant stimulation. The mouth finally left his chest and moved back to his lips, soft lips moving and tongues battling. The wolf growled when he felt small bits of his energy being removed, but what he was most interested in was gripping the smaller man’s hips to stop the constant grinding.

Stiles mewled out in protest, “Derek,” he gasped. 

“You want me to fuck you in my car?” Derek chuckled breathlessly against Stiles’ neck. 

“I need you. I want you, please,” the succubus begged, eyes struggling for color dominance flashing at the wolf. 

“I don’t have anything-“

“Doesn’t matter…”

“Stiles,” Derek growled and ground down into him again, “Show me what you want then.”

Stiles whimpered at the loss of those thick hands but scrambled to turn his lanky body in the back of the Camaro around so he could grind his ass back against Derek’s hard, clothed, member. The succubus reached back and gripped Derek’s neck, tilting his head so the wolf could bite down like he knew the Alpha wanted to. Derek complied and Stiles released a guttural moan, working his pants off now. The Alpha got the idea and worked his own off, sitting back while Stiles was resting most of his weight on his shoulders and knees trying to shove his clothing off. Stiles was expecting the raw feeling of being penetrated without preparation, but instead, when Derek’s thick hands spread his cheeks apart he felt a wet tongue on his ass. Stiles cried out in shock and shook underneath Derek. The wolf began licking and pushing into his hole, tugging at the tight muscle. The older man’s hands gripped his hips tight to make sure Stiles couldn’t squirm.   
Stiles panted and whined underneath him shivering and pushing back onto Derek’s mouth. But when the warm wetness left Stiles huffed and tried to look over his shoulder, until two fingers entered him and began spreading him open. A loud moan left his mouth as he pushed onto the thick fingers. The succubus’ fingers gripped the passenger seat in front of him and fingernails dug into the interior the window came out of. Stiles felt like he was almost folded in half in the cramped space of the back seat. As Derek fucked him with his fingers, his leg slipped off the seat onto the floor of the Camaro, but neither of them stopped despite the force pushing Stiles forward into the door.   
Whining out Stiles gasped, “Please Derek, just be inside of me.”

The wolf pushed in a third finger after spitting on his moving hand. “I am inside of you,” He teased. 

Stiles released a sob at the stretch and Derek purposefully ignored his needs. “I want..”

“What is it, Stiles?” Derek growled in his ear. 

“I want your cock inside of me,” He whimpered, fingers tightening their grasps so he could push back on Derek’s fingers. 

Derek laughed softly and pulled his fingers out, ignoring Stiles’ huffs of protest. The succubus heard the other spit again, glancing over his shoulder to finally see Derek stroking his member. The wolf was making sure he had enough spit on his dick to make sure he could just slide into Stiles without any drag. Before Stiles could beg, Derek was lined up and slowly pushing in, pulling out a low and long drawn out moan from Stiles until he bottomed out. Immediately the wolf began pumping his hips into Stiles, shifting so he was dragging his cock along Stiles’ prostate at each push and pull. The wolf gripped the succubus’ hips tighter, keeping to his brutal pace as Stiles cried out and writhed underneath him. 

“De-derek!” Stikes cried feeling himself being filled.

The succubus took in the essence of the wolf bucking his hips back against the man. The brunette could only sob and beg as he was pounded against the passenger door of Derek’s too nice car. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as his hunger disseminated and his pleasure rose. Stiles took all the Alpha could give him, moving as much as the other would let him and giving him all the noises he hoped for. Soon Derek’s cum was spilling inside of Stiles and Stiles was spilling onto his flannel he had put down to keep Derek’s car clean of fluids. Derek’s mouth landed on Stiles’ shoulder and bit down hard, thrusting the rest of his semen out. The wolf’s arm held Stiles up as he slumped into a puddle of pleasure and fullness. The black haired man laid his chest across Stiles’ twisted and folded back, kissing and cleaning the bloody bite. 

“Don’t think you can make me a werewolf,” Stiles slurred out giggling. 

“I can try.” 

Derek pressed a smile against the succubus’ sweaty head, sighing pleasantly. He pulled out of Stiles so that Derek was laying as best as he could on the back seat with Stiles resting on top of him. They rested, breathing in unison as Stiles drifted off. Eventually, Derek, cleaned them with the same flannel and pulled both their pants back up. Derek could smell the waves of pleasure and content spilling off of the succubus and felt like he had done a job well done that day. They actually had discussed their relationship and he fed Stiles in many ways. His wolf felt accomplished, he had a purring Stiles on top of him and was not planning on moving for a while. 

Derek had been driving them back from the restaurant to the old Hale house when Stiles started smelling so delicious. The succubus hadn’t done it on purpose, Stiles had just been talking like always, and like always started smelling of lust the more he looked at Derek. Everything about Stiles made more sense now, his constant bottom line scent of lust. Stiles using honey pot tricks and discussion of sex all the time. All of this before eighteen, Derek and everyone else really, thought it was just normal teenage hormones. This, Stiles being a succubus, made more sense than anything else that people had come up with to explain him. The influencing pheromones had almost overwhelmed Derek, so he pulled over on the side of the dirt road to deal with Stiles appropriately.  
Stiles eventually woke with a soft sigh, fingers gripping Derek’s shirt tighter as he stretched his legs as best as he could in the cramped space. He looked up at the wolf with a cheesed smile, running his fingers up and down the man’s chiseled chest. The wolf released a pleased hum and sat up as Stiles did. They both tried to stretch their long limbs as best as they could in the back of the sports car. Stiles leaned back, gripping Derek’s thigh and squeezed a few times looking at him. Derek took in a deep breath, smelling the lust spilling off of Stiles again, or more than while he was asleep. 

“We’re in a car.”

Stiles looked at Derek blankly, not sure why he was bringing up their location.   
“You stink, Stiles.”

“Oh,” he laughed and bobbled his head. “Sorry, you really shouldn’t look like sex on stilts at all times then.”

Derek chuckled in response shaking his head, “We will eventually have to do other things besides sex.”

“Boring,” Stiles sang and slouched against the door to face Derek better. 

“Will I be able to keep up with you?”

Stiles shrugged and tilted his head, “Why do you think I put my mouth on anything passing by? This has been pretty unbearable. I don't even need to eat this often either.”

“Maybe we should find you someone like you?”

Stiles sighed and looked down at his lap. “I found a notebook that my mother left me, I haven’t looked in it. I think she knew I would end up like her, so she prepared for it.”  
Derek took in the information nodding his head slowly and shrugged. “Maybe it has contact info about someone else? Like family you don’t know about.”

Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek breathing slowly to keep his anxiety at bay. “I… Derek, I don’t think someone is going to help me with the amount of sex I crave,” he chuckled softly. Stiles shifted to tucking a leg underneath him and moved towards Derek, placing a hand on his thigh and shoulder. The brunette gently kissed the wolf’s lips, letting the movement be lazy and in soft before finally pulling away. “I’ll let you breath for as long as you need, I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Where are you going to go right now?” Derek snorted. 

“Maybe a run in the woods.”

“You? A run?”

“Hey! I run! I can run better than before!” Stiles laughed and opened the door slowly, taking a step out. 

Derek grabbed his wrist, red eyes flashing at the succubus and a small snarl. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Stiles shivered, letting the other smell his fear and lust mixing together. “Derek,” he whimpered and used his own supernatural strength to pull his wrist out of the death grip. Stiles got out of the car completely, glowing green eyes flashing at the bright red. The succubus felt stuck for a moment, trapped by the wolf’s power. They both heard the snap of a tree branch and wind picking up through the trees, which allowed Stiles the time to get back into his own mind and start running. This hadn’t been his plan, honestly. The succubus expected them to go back to the partially re-built Hale house and explore each other all over it. But the urge to just run and stretch his legs, to feel the chase of someone he trusted on his tail felt more important and empowering. Stiles had been trapped not just literally, but in his own mind and body. 

The soft breeze hitting his hair as he moved gracefully across the forest floor felt exhilarating. Stiles never felt safer than he did at this moment. Never before did he have the stamina, strength, and defense to feel comfortable running from a wolf. The succubus was fully aware of the wolf pounding on the ground behind him. It didn’t matter, Derek wouldn’t hurt him, and Stiles could actually keep up with the energy he was filled with. Wolves definitely were a better choice than humans (if you ignore the humans dying part) wolves had their own supernatural energy that gave Stiles three times the energy and strength. When he heard a twig snap the direction he was running his shifted his position to the left as he took in the air. It was Derek, so he tried to push himself harder. Stiles definitely couldn’t out run Derek, but he could try his best. 

Eventually Derek managed to pounce on him and knocked him down to the forest floor. Stiles felt some panic rise as he tried to crawl away, it mixed with the rush of lust flowing through him. Derek was trying to flip Stiles around as the succubus was crawling away. The wolf won out after a few minutes of struggle against the forest floor and flipped Stiles so he was on his back. Derek gripped Stiles’ wrists and pressed them down, pressing his face into the succubus’ neck. Derek dragged his elongated canines down Stiles’ neck, earning a shiver and a whimper out of him. Derek was Beta shift and his smell was overwhelming Stiles’ senses. Stiles may not be able to push Derek off of him, but he thought he might be able to flip him. As the Alpha scented him and left marks, Stiles wrapped his leg around Derek’s waist, shifting his weight to one side, swinging and flipping them so he was on top of Derek, sitting right on his crotch. 

The succubus ground down into the wolf, his hands flat on the muscular chest, clawed hands still wrapped around his wrists. Stiles was panting in tune with Derek. The wolf’s face contorted, a normally soft pant sounding like a growl. Stiles slowly rocked his hips, pulsing his influence into their skin contact, calming Derek down enough he shifted back to his normal face. Stiles panted and giggled excitedly watching Derek refocus on what was happening. The man’s thick hands had normal fingernails now, and Derek was smiling brightly at Stiles. 

“That was… Incredible.”

“Didn’t think forcing seduction would change you back. Good to know,” Stiles teased and rested his elbows on Derek’s chest. Stiles then leaned forward and rested his head in his propped up hands, smiling down at the wolf. 

Derek laughed softly and gently ran his hands along Stiles’ forearms. The werewolf opened his mouth to say something when a twig snapped nearby. Both of their heads darted to the sound, listening and smelling the air to decipher. Derek knew it wasn’t someone or something they knew, Stiles could tell by the way his face contorted. Stiles tilted a bit more and smelled more, lifting back up as the scent seemed familiar. Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrists, trying to prevent the other from standing as he didn’t want the newcomer to hear them and move faster than they could anticipate. 

“Wow, incredible is right. Took down and calmed a werewolf? Incredible,” the stranger purred through thick dark lips. A lithe short woman with blonde hair falling to the swell of her ass, a soft wave in the hair. Her skin was olive, darker under the canopy of the trees, any light that shined showed her glimmering green eyes. 

Stiles’ eyes flashed green in response and slowly stood up shaking off the wolf. “It helps that he wasn’t planning on killing me.” 

“What is going on, do you know her?” Derek growled as he scrambled up. 

“No. But she’s like me,” Stiles murmured, turning his green eyes to Derek. The Alpha flashed his own red back and looked to the woman, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Oh, so you’re fucking him, smarter,” The woman added walking a few more paces closer. Stiles’ eyes grew wide when he smelled her and glanced to Derek who turned his head away, trying to keep Stiles’ scent in his nose instead. 

“Yea, trying to not kill people,” Stiles replied stepping closer to the wolf, feeling unsteady about another succubus in his home town. 

“You’re young. Where’s your mother?”

“Dead.”

“Ah, shame. No wonder you killed those two men. Had no idea did you?” She purred gliding up to Stiles. She placed her hands on his chest, gently running them down to his waist. Her green eyes glowed up into his. “You probably need some help right? Learn how to control your urges. If you fuck him too much and take whatever you want when you’re already full, you can become intoxicated.”  
Stiles stared down at her, his lips in an ‘o’ shape, curious about the thought of getting drunk off of Derek’s cock. “You are such a baby. You would enjoy the thought of that. But I assure you, you will not be able to defend yourself.”

“I… I manage just fine.”

“You were caught by those soul sucking hunters. They have killed hundreds of us with their “experiment”.”

“And here I am. Alive.” Stiles was becoming annoyed. Yes, he needed help, but being condescended to was the last way to get him to do something. 

“Curious. Did you fuck the life out of all of them, or did you use someone else.” Stiles didn’t reply and looked away, staring at Derek’s fist. The wolf was ready to hit the woman touching his succubus. “You are such a succubus. Seducing someone to do your bidding.”

“Look, I didn’t. I don’t even know-“

“You do. I watched you. I’ve been watching you since the deaths.”

Stiles stood frozen, having been watched this entire time, it was. It felt like an attack on his person. This woman had been watching him, hadn’t stepped in until after he escaped from his kidnappers and they were dead. It wasn’t okay. This woman had seen him suffer, seen him struggle and never once stepped in to help. Their green eyes stayed locked, the woman feeling smug and Stiles reacting negatively to her fueling his panic. 

“Who even are you?” Derek growled, pushing her away, allowing Stiles space. “How dare you come to help now instead of the numerous times he needed it. What gives you the right to step in now?”

“Derek,” Stiles warned. He didn’t know what she was capable of and he didn’t want Derek hurt when there was no reason to fight. 

“I’m Priseva,” she flipped her blonde hair and gazed at Stiles before landing on Derek. “I didn’t want to get hurt. Stiles is constantly surrounded by cops, werewolves, druids, and fucking hunters. Of all things to surround yourself with. I’m here now, however, so why push me away?”

“I’m not leaving here,” Stiles replied.

“I wasn’t planning on taking you away, but you should get to know others like you, instead of milling around with… God knows what else.” 

“You should leave here, you’re not welcome,” Derek told the woman. 

“I’m not leaving him. You can’t take care of him, he can’t take care of himself!” Her silky voice raised, fists by her sides now. 

“LEAVE!” The alpha growled, volume shaking the forest.

The succubus shook softy glaring at Stiles for not falling in line like she had hoped. “Fine. You’ll regret this Stiles. You’ll hurt yourself, someone you love.” With that she backed up and walked away from them, hands still in fists, hair flowing behind her. 

The pair stayed until the forest consumed her, Stiles released a breath he had been holding and fell back against Derek. His heart was pounding and his head was swirling. Large hands gripped his biceps, holding his steady as he shook and tried to regain his bearings. Derek’s nose pressed into Stiles’ hair and then to his neck, rubbing his scruff against Stiles’ cheek, attempting to ground him. The succubus slouched and gently pulled away from Derek, looking up at the wolf, his now brown eyes searching Derek’s still red. 

“You really think she was bad news?” He asked, feeling unsteady still. Stiles knew if his mother was still around, he might not have done the things he did, he might have known how to control himself better. 

“I think she was lying through her teeth about you.”

Stiles studied him and breathed slowly, “You think? Or you know? I know that I’m not-I haven’t gotten used to my abilities. She lied maybe… Twice?”

Derek shook his head and gripped his arms. “That’s my point. If she got caught lying about some things, what else is she lying about?”

“She might be able to help me understand. You’re not as strong as you could be with me feeding off of you. And I don’t know how to stop myself. I don’t know how to quit once I’m full,” Stiles stated anxiously. Stiles dropped his eyes staring at the forest floor. 

“She might also make you do things that are worse than the things you’ve been forced to do.” 

“So you’re saying, the possibility of me learning from someone like me, isn’t worth the risk,” the succubus searched the ground for answers. “What am I supposed to do, we can’t… we can’t even begin to comprehend what I could do.” 

“Stiles, look at me,” Derek whispered, holding his cheek, making the other look up. Stiles’ eyes finally met the Alpha’s and sighed quietly. “We’ll figure it out. If we can figure out a banshee, kitsune, and an artificial werewolf… we can figure you out.” Stiles nodded and fell into Derek again, breathing in his musky and sweat filled scent. His slim arms wrapped around Derek’s torso hugging him tightly. He felt safe in the wolf’s arms, unexposed and protected from the outside world. Derek breathed Stiles in, taking the calm they had in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much for reading.   
> I’m sorry for the abrupt ending. 
> 
> The fic was making me lose my mind and this seemed like a good place to stop. Maybe I’ll come back for them, but not today. <3
> 
> As always please comment and leave kudos. Leave ideas, thoughts, concerns.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me some love via comments and kudos  
> If you have plot ideas or requests definitely leave those down below ;p  
> I love you all <3


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